TRUE  STORIES 
OF  CRIME 

FROM  THE  DISTRICT  ATTORNEY'S 
OFFICE 


t 


BY 


ARTHUR  TRAIN 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  PRISONER  AT  THE  BAR1 
11  MCALLISTER  AND  HIS  DOUBLE," 

"MORTMAIN,"  ETC. 


CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 
NEW  YORK    ::    ::    ::    ::    ::    1912 


COPYRIGHT,  1908,  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 

Published  May,  1908 


PREFACE 

THE  narratives  composing  this  book  are  lit- 
erally true  stories  of  crime.  In  a  majoiity  of 
the  cases  the  author  conducted  the  prosecutions 
himself,  and  therefore  may  claim  to  have  a 
personal  knowledge  of  that  whereof  he  speaks. 
While  no  confidence  has  been  abused,  no  essential 
facts  have  been  omitted,  distorted,  or  colored, 
and  the  accounts  themselves,  being  all  matters  of 
public  record,  may  be  easily  verified. 

The  scenes  recorded  here  are  not  literature  but 
history,  and  the  characters  who  figure  in  them  are 
not  puppets  of  the  imagination,  but  men  and 
women  who  lived  and  schemed,  laughed,  sinned 
and  suffered,  and  paid  the  price  when  the  time 
came,  most  of  them,  without  flinching.  A  few  of 
those  who  read  these  pages  may  profit  perhaps  by 
their  example;  others  may  gain  somewhat  in 
their  knowledge  of  life  and  human  nature;  but 

256003 


all  will  agree  that  there  are  Dooks  in  the  running 
brooks,  even  if  the  streams  be  turbid,  and  sermons 
in  stones,  though  these  be  the  hearts  of  men.  If 
in  some  instances  the  narratives  savor  in  treat- 
ment more  of  fiction  than  of  fact,  the  writer 
must  plead  guilty  to  having  fallen  under  the  spell 
of  the  romance  of  his  subject,  and  he  proffers  the 
excuse  that,  whereas  such  tales  have  lost  nothing 
in  accuracy,  they  may  have  gained  in  the  truth  of 
their  final  impression. 

ARTHUR  TRAIN. 

CRIMINAL  COURTS  BUILDING* 
NEW  YORK  CITY, 
April  20,  1908. 


CONTENTS 

- 

I.    THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  CASE 3 

II.  FIVE  HUNDRED  MILLION  DOLLARS      ...     37 

III.  THE  LOST  STRADIVARIUS 73 

IV.  THE  LAST  OF  THE  WIRE-TAPPERS  .    .    .     .103 
V.     CONFIDENCE  MEN  ABROAD 125 

VI.     THE  FRANKLIN  SYNDICATE 157 

VII.     A  STUDY  IN  FINANCE 189 

VIII.     THE  "Due  DE  NEVERS" 223  . 

IX.     A  FINDER  OF  MISSING  HEIRS 255 

X.     A  MURDER  CONSPIRACY 281 

XI.  THE  DOWNFALL  OF  A  CRIMINAL  LAWYER  .315 

XII.     A  FLIGHT  INTO  TEXAS      .    ., 341 

XIII.  A  CASE  OF  CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE  .     .375 


THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  CASE 


The  Woman  in  the  Case 

ON  a  sultry  August  afternoon  in  1903,  a 
dapper,  if  somewhat  anaemic,  young  man 
entered  the  Broadway  store  of  Rogers,  Peet  & 
Company,  in  New  York  City,  and  asked  to  be  al- 
lowed to  look  at  a  suit  of  clothes.  Having  selected 
one  to  his  fancy  and  arranged  for  some  alterations, 
he  produced  from  his  wallet  a  check  for  $280,  drawn 
to  the  order  of  George  B.Lang,  and  signed  E.Bier- 
stadt,  and  remarked  to  the  attentive  salesman: 

"  I  haven't  got  quite  enough  cash  with  me  to  pay 
tor  these,  but  I  have  been  intending  to  cash  this 
check  all  the  afternoon.  Of  course,  you  don't  know 
me  or  even  that  my  name  is  Lang,  but  if  you  will 
forward  the  check  to  the  bank  they  will  certify  it, 
and  to-morrow  I  will  send  for  the  suit  and  the 
balance  of  the  money." 

"Certainly,  Mr.  Lang,"  replied  the  salesman. 
"  I  will  hold  the  suit  and  the  money  to  await  your 
orders." 

The  customer  thanked  him  and  took  his  depart- 
3 


,  Stories  of  Crime 

ure.  The  check  was  sent  to  the  bank,  the  bank 
certified  it,  then  cancelled  its  certification  and  re- 
turned the  check  to  Rogers,  Peet  &  Company,  and 
the  store  detectives,  having  communicated  with 
Police  Headquarters,  anxiously  awaited  the  arri- 
val of  Mr.  Lang's  messenger. 

Their  efforts  were  rewarded  a  couple  of  days 
later  by  the  appearance  at  the  store  of  a  lad  who 


FlG.  i. — Envelope  on  the  back  of  which  Parker's 
forged  order  was  written. 

presented  a  written  order  (Fig.  i  and  Fig.  2)  in- 
scribed upon  the  back  of  an  envelope  bearing  a 
cancelled  stamp  and  addressed  to  Geo.  B.  Lang, 
No.  13  West  Twenty-sixth  Street,  New  York 
City,  which  read  as  follows : 

ROGERS,  PEET   &  Co. 

Please  give  to  bearer  the  clothes  I  purchased  on  Tues- 
day— suit — pants — S.  coat,  and  also  kindly  put  change 
in  envelope  in  inside  coat  pocket. 

4 


The  Woman  in  the  Case 

Trusting  the  alterations  are  satisfactory,  and  thanking 
you  in  advance  for  the  favor  and  for  past  courtesies,  I  am, 

Resp.  yours, 

GEO.  B.  LANG. 

The  boy  was  immediately  placed  under  arrest, 


( 


FIG.  2. — Parker's  order  on  Rogers,  Peet  & 
Company,  in  the  name  of  Lang. 

and  after  proclaiming  his  own  innocence  and  vo- 
ciferating that  he  was  only  doing  an  errand  for  a 
"gent,"  who  was  waiting  close  by,  was  directed  to 
return  with  his  bundle  as  if  nothing  had  occurred. 

5 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

This  he  did,  and  Mr.  George  B.  Lang  was  soon  in 
the  clutches  of  the  law. 

Interrogated  by  his  captors,  the  supposed  Lang 
admitted  that  his  real  name  was  James  Parker, 
that  he  lived  at  no  West  Thirty-eighth  Street,  and 
only  requested  that  his  wife  be  immediately  noti- 
fied of  what  had  happened.  At  Headquarters  the 
prisoner  was  identified  as  a  gentleman  who  had 
been  very  actively  engaged  during  the  preceding 
Months  in  passing  bad  checks  throughout  the  city, 
his  more  recent  operations  having  consisted  in 
cashing  a  check  on  the  Lincoln  National  Bank  for 
$160  on  July  aoth,  one  for  $2<)O.on  the  same  bank 
on  July  3Oth,  still  another  for  $510.50  on  August 
4th,  and  one  for  $440.50  on  the  National  Shoe  and 
Leather  Bank,  "to  bearer,"  on  August  8th.  This 
last,  in  some  inexplicable  way,  had  been  cashed  at 
the  very  bank  itself. 

Believing  that  the  forger  had  at  last  been  caught, 
the  precinct  detectives  later  on,  during  the  even- 
ing of  Parker's  arrest,  visited  no  West  Thirty- 
eighth  Street,  and  on  inquiring  for  "Mrs.  Parker," 
were  introduced  to  a  young  girl  of  attractive  ap- 
pearance to  whom  they  delivered  their  unwelcome 
message.  Mrs.  Parker  seemed  overwhelmed  at  the 
news  and  strongly  asserted  her  confidence  in  her 
husband's  innocence  of  any  wrong-doing.  Having 
performed  their  errand  the  officers  departed. 

6 


The  Woman  in  the  Case 

A  certain  ineradicable  jealousy  has  always  ex- 
isted between  the  plain-clothes  men  of  the  various 
precincts  and  the  sleuths  attached  to  the  Central 
Office,  and  in  this  instance  the  precinct  men,  hav- 
ing gained  the  credit  for  the  arrest,  it  did  not  occur 
to  them  as  necessary  to  communicate  the  knowl- 
edge of  their  acquaintance  with  Mrs.  Parker  to 
Detective  Sergeants  Peabody  and  Clark,  originally 
assigned  at  Headquarters  to  investigate  the  case. 

It  seemed,  however,  to  Peabody  very  unlikely 
that  Parker  had  conducted  his  operations  alone, 
and  he  therefore  at  once  inquired  at  the  Tombs 
what  character  of  visitors  came  to  see  the  prisoner. 
The  gateman  replied  that  as  yet  none  had  arrived. 
At  that  very  instant  a  young  girl  stepped  to  the 
wicket  and  asked  if  she  could  be  allowed  to  see  Mr. 
James  Parker.  It  took  the  detective  but  a  moment 
to  run  across  to  the  Criminal  Courts  Building  and 
to  telephone  the  warden  to  detain  her  temporarily 
and  then  to  refuse  her  request.  Five  minutes  later 
the  girl  emerged  disconsolately  from  the  Tombs 
and  boarded  a  car  going  uptown.  Peabody  fol- 
lowed her  to  no  West  Thirty-eighth  Street,  not 
for  an  instant  supposing  that  the  girl  herself  could 
be  the  forger,  but  believing  that  possibly  through 
her  he  might  learn  of  other  members  of  the  gang 
and  secure  additional  evidence  against  Parker 
himself. 

7 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Of  course,  no  intelligent  person  to-day  supposes 
that,  outside  of  Sir  Conan  Doyle's  interesting  nov- 
els, detectives  seek  the  baffling  criminal  by  means 
of  analyzing  cigar  butts,  magnifying  thumb  marks 
or  specializing  in  the  various  perfumes  in  favor 
among  the  fair  sex,  or  by  any  of  those  complicated, 
brain  fatiguing  processes  of  ratiocination  indulged 
in  by  our  old  friend,  Mr.  Sherlock  Holmes.  There 
are  still,  however,  genuine  detectives,  and  some  of 
them  are  to  be  found  upon  the  New  York  police 
force.  The  magnifying  glass  is  not  one  of  the  ordi- 
nary tools  of  the  professional  sleuth,  and  if  he  car- 
ries a  pistol  at  all  it  is  because  the  police  rules 
require  it,  while  those  cases  may  be  numbered 
upon  the  fingers  of  two  hands  where  his  own  hair 
and  whiskers  are  not  entirely  sufficient  for  his 
purposes  in  the  course  of  his  professional  career. 

The  next  morning  Peabody  donned  the  most 
disreputable  suit  in  his  wardrobe,  neglected  his 
ordinary  visit  to  the  barber,  and  called  at  no 
West  Thirty-eighth  Street,  being,  of  course,  at  this 
time  entirely  unaware  of  the  fact  that  the  girl  was 
Parker's  wife.  He  found  her  sitting  in  a  rocking 
chair  in  a  comfortable,  well-furnished  room,  and 
reading  a  magazine.  Assuming  an  expression  of 
sheepish  inanity  he  informed  her  that  he  was  an 
old  pal  of  "Jim's"  who  had  been  so  unfortunate 
as  to  be  locked  up  in  the  same  cell  with  him  at 

8 


The  Woman  in  the  Case 

Headquarters,  and  that  the  latter  was  in  desperate 
need  of  morphine.  That  Parker  was  an  habitual 
user  of  the  drug  could  be  easily  seen  from  the  most 
casual  inspection,  but  that  it  would  prove  an  open 
sesame  to  the  girl's  confidence  was,  as  the  detec- 
tive afterward  testified,  "a  hundred-to-one  shot." 

"Poor  Jim!"  exclaimed  the  girl.  "Couldn't 
you  smuggle  some  into  the  Tombs  for  him  ? " 

Peabody  took  the  hint.  Of  course  he  could. 
It  would  be  a  hard  job — those  turnkeys  were  so 
suspicious.  But  he  could  do  it  for  her  if  anybody 
could.  He  rambled  on,  telling  his  experiences  with 
Parker  in  the  past,  how  he  had  been  in  Elmira 
Reformatory  and  elsewhere  with  him,  and  gaining 
each  moment  valuable  information  from  the  girl's 
exclamations,  questions,  and  expression.  He  soon 
learned  that  she  was  Parker's  wife,  that  they  were 
living  in  comparative  comfort,  and  that  she  was 
an  exceedingly  clever  and  well-educated  woman, 
but  she  said  nothing  during  the  conversation  which 
would  indicate  that  she  knew  anything  of  her 
husband's  offenses  or  of  any  persons  connected 
with  them. 

After  a  few  moments  the  girl  slipped  on  her  coat 
and  hat  and  the  two  started  down  to  the  Tombs, 
where,  by  prearrangement  with  the  officials,  the 
detective  succeeded  in  convincing  her  that  he  had 
been  able  to  send  in  to  her  husband  a  small  hypo- 

9 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

dermic  syringe  (commonly  called  "the  needles") 
which  she  had  purchased  at  a  neighboring  drug 
store. 

The  apparent  success  of  this  undertaking  put 
Mrs.  Parker  in  excellent  humor  and  she  invited  the 
supposed  crook  to  breakfast  with  her  at  the  Broad- 
way Central  Hotel.  So  far,  it  will  be  observed, 
Peabody  had  accomplished  practically  nothing. 
At  breakfast  the  girl  inquired  of  her  companion 
what  his  particular  "graft"  was,  to  which  he  re- 
plied that  he  was  an  expert  "second  story  man," 
and  then  proceeded  to  indulge  his  imagination  in 
accounts  of  bold  robberies  in  the  brown  stone  dis- 
tricts and  clever  "  tricks  "  in  other  cities,  which  left 
Mrs.  Parker  in  no  doubt  but  that  her  companion 
was  an  expert  "  gun  "  of  long  experience. 

Then  he  took,  as  he  expressed  it,  "another 
chance." 

"Jim  wanted  me  to  tell  you  to  put  the  gang 
'wise,'"  said  he. 

The  girl  looked  at  him  sharply  and  contracted 
her  brows. 

"Gang?"  she  exclaimed.  "What  gang?  Oh, 
perhaps  he  meant  'Dutch'  and  *  Sweeney."' 

Peabody  bit  his  lip.    He  had  had  a  close  call. 

"Don't  know,"  he  replied,  "he  didn't  say  who 
they  were — just  to  put  them  'wise.'" 

A  second  time  the  detective  had  made  a  lucky 
*  10 


The  Woman  in  the  Case 

hit,  for  Mrs.  Parker  suddenly  laid  aside  all  pre- 
tense and  asked: 

"  Do  you  want  to  make  a  lot  of  money  ? " 

Peabody  allowed  that  he  did. 

"  Do  you  know  what  they  have  got  Jim  for  ? " 
asked  the  girl. 

"'Phoney*  paper,  wasn't  it?" 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Parker,  "but  Jim  didn't  write 
those  checks.  I  wrote  them  myself.  If  you  want 
to  go  in  with  me,  we  can  earn  enough  money  to  get 
Jim  out  and  you  can  do  a  good  turn  for  yourself 
besides." 

The  detective's  blood  leaped  in  his  veins  but  he 
held  himself  under  control  as  well  as  he  could  and 
answered  indifferently. 

"I  guess  not.  I  never  met  a  woman  that  was 
very  good  at  that  sort  of  game." 

"Oh,  you  don't  know  me,"  she  persisted. 
"Why,  I  can  copy  anything  in  a  few  moments — 
really  I  can." 

"Too  dangerous,"  remarked  Peabody.  "I 
might  get  settled  for  ten  years." 

"No,  you  wouldn't,"  she  continued.  "It's  the 
easiest  thing  in  the  world.  All  you  have  to  do  is  to 
pick  the  mail  out  of  some  box  on  a  corner.  I  can 
show  you  how  with  a  copper  wire  and  a  little  piece 
of  wax — and  you  are  sure  to  find  among  the  letters 
somebody's  check  in  payment  of  a  bill.  There  at 

ii 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

once  you  have  the  bank,  and  the  signature.  Then 
all  you  have  to  do  is  to  write  a  letter  to  the  bank 
asking  for  a  new  check  book,  saying  yours  is  used 
up,  and  sign  the  name  that  appears  on  the  check. 
If  you  can  fool  the  cashier  into  giving  your  messen- 
ger a  check  book  you  can  gamble  pretty  safely  on 
his  paying  a  check  signed  with  the  same  name.  In 
that  way,  you  see,  you  can  get  all  the  blank  checks 
you  need  and  test  the  cashier's  watchfulness  at  the 
same  time.  It's  too  easy.  The  only  thing  you 
have  to  look  out  for  is  not  to  overdraw  the  ac- 
count. Still,  you  find  so  many  checks  in  the  mail 
that  you  can  usually  choose  somebody's  account 
that  will  stand  the  strain.  Do  you  know,  I  have 
made  hundreds  of  checks  and  the  banks  have  certi- 
fied every  single  one!" 

Peabody  laughed  good  naturedly.  Things  were 
looking  up  a  bit. 

"What  do  you  think  I  am,  anyhow?"  he  asked. 
"I  must  look  like  a  ' come-on. "; 

"  Pm  giving  it  to  you  straight,"  she  said  simply. 
"After  you  have  made  out  a  good  fat  check,  then 
you  go  to  a  store,  buy  something,  tell  them  to  for- 
ward the  check  to  the  bank  for  certification,  and 
that  you'll  send  for  the  goods  and  the  change  the 
next  day.  The  bank  ^always  certifies  the  check, 
and  you  get  the  money." 

"Not  always,"  saidJPeabody  with  a  grin. 


The  Woman  in  the  Case 

"No,  not  always,"  acquiesced  Mrs.  Parker. 
"  But  Jim  and  I  have  been  averaging  over  a  hun- 
dred dollars  a  day  for  months/' 

"Good  graft,  all  right,"  assented  the  detective. 
"But  how  does  the  one  who  lays  down  the  check 
identify  himself?  For  instance,  suppose  I  go  into 
Tiffany's  and  pick  out  a  diamond,  and  say  I'm 
Mr.  John  Smith,  of  100  West  One  Hundredth 
Street,  and  the  floorwalker  says,  'Sorry,  Mr. 
Smith,  but  we  don't  know  you,'  what  then  ?" 

"Just  flash  a  few  letters  on  him,"  said  the  girl. 
"Letters  and  envelopes." 

"Where  do  you  get  'em  ?"  asked  Peabody. 

"  Just  write  them,  silly,  and  send  them  to  your- 
self through  the  mail." 

"That's  all  right,"  retorted  the  "second  story 
man."  "But  how  can  I  mail  myself  a  letter  to  100 
West  One  Hundredth  Street  when  I  don't  live 
there?" 

Mrs.  Parker  smiled  in  a  superior  manner. 

"I'm  glad  I  can  put  you  wise  to  a  new  game. 
I  invented  it  myself.  You  want  letters  of  identifi- 
cation ?  In  different  names  and  addresses  on  differ- 
ent days  ?  Very  good.  Buy  a  bundle  of  stamped 
envelopes  and  write  your  own  name  and  address 
on  them  in  pencil,  When  they  arrive  rub  off  the 
pencil  address.  Then  if  you  want  to  be  John 
Smith  of  100  West  One  Hundredth  Street,  or  any- 

13 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

body  else,  just  address  the  cancelled  envelope  in 
ink.9' 

"Mabel,"  said  Peabody  with  admiration, 
"you've  got  the  'gray  matter'  all  right.  You  can 
have  me,  if  you  can  deliver  the  rest  of  the  goods." 

"There's  still  another  little  frill,"  she  contin- 


FIG.  3.— A  letter-head  frill  of  Mabel  Parker's. 

ued,  pleased  at  his  compliment,  "if  you  want  to  do 
the  thing  in  style.  Maybe  you  will  find  a  letter  or 
bill  head  in  the  mail  at  the  same  time  that  you  get 
your  sample  check.  If  you  do,  you  can  have  it 
copied  and  write  your  request  for  the  check  book 


The  Woman  in  the  Case 

and  your  order  for  the  goods  on  paper  printed  ex- 
actly like  it.  That  gives  a  sort  of  final  touch,  you 
know.  I  remember  we  did  that  with  a  dentist 
named  Budd,  at  137  West  Twenty-second  Street." 

(Fig-  3-) 

"You've  got  all  the  rest  whipped  to  a  stand- 
still," cried  Peabody. 

"Well,  just  come  over  to  the  room  and  I'll  show 
you  something  worth  while/'  exclaimed  the  girl, 
getting  up  and  paying  their  bill. 

"Now,"  said  she,  when  they  were  safely  at  no 
West  Thirty-eighth  Street,  and  she  had  closed  the 
door  of  the  room  and  drawn  Peabody  to  a  desk  in 
the  bay  window.  "Here's  my  regular  hand- 
writing." 

She  pulled  towards  her  a  pad  which  lay  open 
upon  the  desk  and  wrote  in  a  fair,  round  hand: 

"Mrs.  James  D.Singley."    (Fig.  4.) 

"This,"  she  continued,  changing  her  slant  and 
dashing  off  a  queer  feminine  scrawl,  "  is  the  sig- 
nature we  fooled  the  Lincoln  National  Bank 
with — Miss  Kauser's,  you  know.  And  this,"  she 
added  a  moment  later,  adopting  a  stiff,  shaky, 
hump-backed  orthography,  "is  the  signature  that 
got  poor  Jim  into  all  this  trouble,"  and  she  in- 
scribed twice  upon  the  paper  the  name  "E.  Bier- 
stadt."  "Poor  Jim!"  she  added  to  herself. 

"By  George,  Mabel,"  remarked  the  detective, 
15 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

"you're  a  wonder!  See  if  you  can  copy  my  name." 
And  Peabody  wrote  the  assumed  name  of  William 
Hickey,  first  with  a  stub  and  then  with  a  fine  point, 
both  of  which  signatures  she  copied  like  a  flash,  in 
each  case,  however,  being  guilty  of  the  lapse  of 
spelling  the  word  William  "  Williarc." 

The  pad  now  contained  more  than  enough  evi- 
dence to  convict  twenty  women,  and  Peabody, 
with  the  remark,  "You  don't  want  to  leave  this 
kind  of  thing  lying  around,  Mabel/'  pretended  to 
tear  the  page  up,  but  substituted  a  blank  sheet  in 
its  place  and  smuggled  the  precious  bit  of  paper 
into  his  pocket. 

"Yes,  I'll  go  into  business  with  you, — sure  I 
will!"  said  Peabody. 

"And  we'll  get  enough  money  to  set  Jim  free!" 
exclaimed  the  girl. 

They  were  now  fast  friends,  and  it  was  agreed 
that  "Hickey"  should  go  and  make  himself  pre- 
sentable, after  which  they  would  dine  at  some  res- 
taurant and  then  sample  a  convenient  mail  box. 
Meantime  Peabody  telephoned  to  Headquarters, 
and  when  the  two  set  out  for  dinner  at  six  o'clock 
the  supposed  "Hickey"  was  stopped  on  Broad- 
way by  Detective  Sergeant  Clark. 

"What  are  you  doing  here  in  New  York  ?"  de- 
manded Clark.  "Didn't  I  give  you  six  hours  to 
fly  the  coop  ?  And  who's  this  woman  ?" 

16 


The  Woman  in  the  Case 

"I  was  going,  Clark,  honest  I  was,"  whined 
"Hickey,"  "and  this  lady's  all  right — she  hasn't 
done  a  thing." 

"Well,  I  guess  I'll  have  to  lock  you  up  at  Head- 
quarters for  the  night,"  said  Clark  roughly.  "The 
girl  can  go." 

"Oh,  Mr.  Clark,  do  come  and  have  dinner  with 
us  first!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Parker.  "Mr.  Hickey 
has  been  very  good  to  me,  and  he  hasn't  had  any- 
thing to  eat  for  ever  so  long." 

"Don't  care  if  I  do,"  said  Clark.  "I  guess  I 
can  put  up  with  the  company  if  the  board  is 
good." 

The  three  entered  the  Raleigh  Hotel  and  ordered 
a  substantial  meal.  With  the  arrival  of  dessert, 
however,  the  girl  became  uneasy,  and  apparently 
fearing  arrest  herself,  slipped  a  roll  of  bills  under 
the  table  to  "Hickey"  and  whispered  to  him  to 
keep  it  for  her.  The  detective,  thinking  that  the 
farce  had  gone  far  enough,  threw  the  money  on  the 
table  and  asked  Clark  to  count  it,  at  the  same  time 
telling  Mrs.  Parker  that  she  was  in  custody.  The 
girl  turned  white,  uttered  a  little  scream,  and  then, 
regaining  her  self-possession,  remarked  as  non- 
chalently  as  you  please : 

"Well,  clever  as  you  think  you  are,  you  have 
destroyed  the  only  evidence  against  me — my 
handwriting." 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

"Not  much,"  remarked  Peabody,  producing  the 
sheet  of  paper. 

The  girl  saw  that  the  game  was  up  and  made  a 
mock  bow  to  the  two  detectives. 

"I  take  off  my  hat  to  the  New  York  police," 
said  she. 

At  this  time,  apparently,  no  thought  of  denying 
her  guilt  had  entered  her  mind,  and  at  the  station 
house  she  talked  freely  to  the  sergeant,  the  matron 
and  the  various  newspaper  men  who  were  present, 
even  drawing  pictures  of  herself  upon  loose  sheets 
of  paper  and  signing  her  name,  apparently  rather 
enjoying  the  notoriety  which  her  arrest  had  occa- 
sioned. A  thorough  search  of  her  apartment  was 
now  made  with  the  result  that  several  sheets  of 
paper  were  found  there  bearing  what  were  evi- 
dently practice  signatures  of  the  name  of  Alice 
Kauser.  (Fig.  5.)  Evidence  was  also  obtained 
showing  that,  on  the  day  following  her  husband's 
arrest,  she  had  destroyed  large  quantities  of  blank 
check  books  and  blank  checks. 

Upon  the  trial  of  Mrs.  Parker  the  hand-writing 
experts  testified  that  the  Bierstadt  and  Kauser  sig- 
natures were  so  perfect  that  it  would  be  difficult 
to  state  that  they  were  not  originals.  The  Parker 
woman  was  what  is  sometimes  known  as  a  "free 
hand"  forger;  she  never  traced  anything,  and  as 
her  forgeries  were  written  by  a  muscular  imitation 

18  ' 


The  Woman  in  the  Case 

of  the  pen  movement  of  the  writer  of  the  genuine 
signature  they  were  almost  impossible  of  detec- 
tion. When  Albert  T.  Patrick  forged  the  signa- 
ture of  old  Mr.  Rice  to  the  spurious  will  of  1900 


FIG.  5. — Practice  signatures  of  the  name  of 
Alice  Kauser. 

and  to  the  checks  for  $25,000,  $65,000  and  $135,- 
ooo  upon  Swenson's  bank  and  the  Fifth  Avenue 
Trust  Co.,  the  forgeries  were  easily  detected  from  the 
fact  that  as  Patrick  had  traced  them  they  were  all 

19 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

almost  exactly  alike  and  practically  could  be  super- 
imposed one  upon  another,  line  for  line,  dot  for  dot.* 

Mabel  Parker's  early  history  is  shrouded  in  a 
certain  amount  of  obscurity,  but  there  is  reason  to 
believe  that  she  was  the  offspring  of  respectable 
laboring  people  who  turned  her  over,  while  she 
was  still  an  infant,  to  a  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Prentice, 
instructors  in  physical  culture  in  the  public  schools, 
first  of  St.  Louis  and  later  of  St.  Paul,  Minnesota. 
As  a  child,  and  afterwards  as  a  young  girl,  she  ex- 
hibited great  precocity  and  a  considerable  amount 
of  real  ability  in  drawing  and  in  English  composi- 
tion, but  her  very  cleverness  and  versatility  were 
the  means  of  her  becoming  much  more  sophisti- 
cated than  most  young  women  of  her  age,  with  the 
result  that  while  still  in  her  teens  she  gave  her 
adopted  parents  ground  for  considerable  uneasi- 
ness. Accordingly  they  decided  to  place  her  for 
the  next  few  years  in  a  convent  near  New  York. 
By  this  time  she  had  attained  a  high  degree  of 
proficiency  in  writing  short  stories  and  miscel- 
laneous articles,  which  she  illustrated  herself,  for 
the  papers  and  inferior  magazines.  Convent  life 
proved  very  dull  for  this  young  lady,  and  accord- 
ingly one  dark  evening,  she  made  her  exit  from  the 
cloister  by  means  of  a  conveniently  located  window. 

Waiting  for  her  in  the  grounds  below  was  James 

*  See  Infra,  p.  304. 

20 


The  Woman  in  the  Case 

Parker,  twenty-seven  years  old,  already  of  a  large 
criminal  experience,  although  never  yet  convicted 
of  crime.  The  two  made  their  way  to  New  York, 
were  married,  and  the  girl  entered  upon  her  career. 
Her  husband,  whose  real  name  was  James  D.  Sing- 
ley,  was  a  professional  Tenderloin  crook,  ready  to 
turn  his  hand  to  any  sort  of  cheap  crime  to  satisfy 
his  appetites  and  support  life;  the  money  easily 
secured  was  easily  spent,  and  Singley,  at  the  time 
of  his  marriage,  was  addicted  to  most  of  the  vices 
common  to  the  habitues  of  the  under  world.  His 
worst  enemy  was  the  morphine  habit  and  from  her 
husband  Mrs.  Singley  speedily  learned  the  use  of 
the  drug.  At  this  time  Mabel  Prentice-Parker- 
Singley  was  about  five  feet  two  inches  in  height, 
weighing  not  more  than  105  or  no  pounds,  slender 
to  girlishness  and  showing  no  maturity  save  in  her 
face,  which,  with  its  high  color,  brilliant  blue  eyes, 
and  her  yellow  hair,  often  led  those  who  glanced 
at  her  casually  to  think  her  good  looking.  Further 
inspection,  however,  revealed  a  fox-like  expression, 
an  irregularity  in  the  position  of  the  eyes,  a  hard- 
ness in  the  lines  of  the  mouth  and  a  flatness  of  the 
nose  which  belied  the  first  impression.  This  was 
particularly  true  when,  after  being  deprived  of 
morphine  in  the  Tombs,  her  ordinary  high  color 
gave  way  at  her  second  trial  to  a  waxy  paleness  of 
complexion.  But  the  story  of  her  career  in  the 

21 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Tenderloin  would   prove   neither    profitable    nor 
attractive. 

The  subsequent  history  of  the  Parker  case  is  a 
startling  example  of  the  credulity  of  the  ordinary 
jury.  The  evidence  secured  was  absolutely  conclu- 
sive, but  unfortunately  juries  are  generally  unwill- 
ing to  take  the  uncorroborated  word  of  a  policeman 
against  that  of  a  defendant — particularly  if  the 
defendant  be  a  young  and  pretty  woman.  Here  at 


FIG.  6. — The  check  on  which  the  indictment  for  forgery  was  brought. 

the  very  outset  was  a  complete  confession  on  the 
part  of  Mrs.  Parker,  supplemented  by  illustrations 
from  her  own  pen  of  what  she  could  do.  Com- 
parison showed  that  the  signatures  she  had  written 
without  a  model  upon  the  Peabody  sheet  were 
identical  with  those  upon  the  forged  checks  (Fig. 
6)  and  with  Mr.  Bierstadt's  and  Miss  Kauser's 
handwriting.  When  Mrs.  Parker's  case,  therefore, 
came  on  for  pleading,  her  counsel,  probably  be- 

22 


The  Woman  in  the  Case 

cause  they  could  think  of  nothing  else  to  do,  entered 
a  plea  of  insanity.  It  was  also  intimated  that  the 
young  woman  would  probably  plead  guilty,  and 
the  case  was  therefore  placed  upon  the  calendar 
and  moved  for  trial  without  much  preparation 
on  the  part  of  the  prosecution.  Instead  of  this 
young  person  confessing  her  guilt,  however,  she 
amused  herself  by  ogling  the  jury  and  drawing 
pictures  of  the  Court,  the  District  Attorney  and  the 
various  witnesses. 

Probably  no  more  extraordinary  scene  was  ever 
beheld  in  a  court  of  law  than  that  exhibited  by 
Part  II  of  the  General  Sessions  upon  Mabel 
Parker's  first  trial  for  forgery.  Attired  in  a  sky 
blue  dress  and  picture  hat,  with  new  white  gloves, 
she  sat  jauntily  by  the  side  of  her  counsel  through- 
out the  proceedings  toying  with  her  pen  and  pencil 
and  in  the  very  presence  of  the  jury  copying  hand- 
writing which  was  given  her  for  that  purpose  by 
various  members  of  the  yellow  press  who  crowded 
close  behind  the  rail.  From  time  to  time  she 
would  dash  off  an  aphorism  or  a  paragraph  in  re- 
gard to  the  trial  which  she  handed  to  a  reporter. 
If  satisfactory  this  was  elaborated  and  sometimes 
even  illustrated  by  her  for  the  evening  edition  of  his 
paper. 

The  Assistant  District  Attorney  complained  that 
this  was  clearly  a  contempt  of  court,  particularly  as 

23 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

the  defendant  had  drawn  a  picture  not  only  of  him- 
self, but  of  the  presiding  justice  and  a  witness,  which 
had  appeared  in  one  of  the  evening  papers.  The 
Court,  however,  did  not  see  that  anything  could  be 
done  about  it  and  the  girl  openly  continued  her  lit- 
erary and  artistic  recreation.  The  Court  itself  was 
not  a  little  amused  at  the  actions  of  the  defendant, 
and  when  Detective  Peabody  was  called  to  the 
stand  the  general  hilarity  had  reached  such  a 
pitch  that  he  was  unable  to  give  his  testimony 
without  smiling.  The  natural  result,  therefore,  at 
the  first  trial,  was  that  the  detective  succeeded  in 
giving  the  unqualified  impression  that  he  was 
drawing  the  long  bow  in  a  most  preposterous 
fashion. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  People's  case  the 
evidence  that  Mrs.  Parker  had  forged  the  checks 
amounted  simply  to  this:  That  an  officer  who 
was  greatly  interested  in  her  conviction  had 
sworn  to  a  most  astonishing  series  of  facts  from 
which  the  jury  must  infer  that  this  exceedingly 
astute  young  person  had  not  only  been  entirely 
and  completely  deceived  by  a  detective,  but  also 
that  at  almost  their  first  meeting  she  had  con- 
fessed to  him  in  detail  the  history  of  her  crimes. 
Practically  the  only  other  evidence  tending  to  cor- 
roborate his  story  were  a  few  admissions  of  a  simi- 
lar character  made  by  her  to  newspaper  men,  ma- 

24 


The  Woman  in  the  Case 

trons  and  officers  at  the  police  station.  Unless  the 
jury  were  to  believe  that  Mrs.  Parker  had  actually 
written  the  signatures  on  "the  Peabody  sheet" 
there  was  no  evidence  that  she  was  the  actual  for- 
ger; hence  upon  Peabody' s  word  alone  depended 
the  verdict  of  the  jury.  The  trouble  with  the  case 
was  that  it  was  too  strong,  too  good,  to  be  entirely 
credible,  and  had  there  been  no  defense  it  is  ex- 
ceedingly probable  that  the  trial  would  have  re- 
sulted in  an  acquittal,  since  the  prosecution  had 
elected  to  go  to  the  jury  upon  the  question  of 
whether  or  not  the  defendant  had  actually  signed 
the  checks  herself. 

Mrs.  Parker,  however,  had  withdrawn  her  plea 
of  insanity  and  determined  to  put  in  a  defense, 
which  proved  in  its  turn  to  be  even  more  extraor- 
dinary than  the  case  against  her.  This,  in  brief, 
was  to  the  effect  that  she  had  known  Peabody  to  be 
a  police  officer  all  along,  but  that  it  had  occurred 
to  her  that  if  she  could  deceive  him  into  believing 
that  it  was  she  herself  who  had  committed  the  for- 
geries her  husband  might  get  off,  and  that  later  she 
might  in  turn  establish  her  own  innocence.  She 
had  therefore  hastily  scratched  her  name  on  the 
top  of  a  sheet  already  containing  her  husband's 
handwriting  and  had  told  Peabody  that  the  signa- 
tures had  been  written  by  herself.  That  the  sheet 
had  been  written  in  the  officer's  presence  she 

25 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

declared  to  be  a  pure  invention  on  his  part  u> 
secure  her  conviction.  She  told  her  extremely 
illogical  story  with  a  certain  winsome  naivete 
which  carried  an  air  of  semi-probability  with  it. 
From  her  deportment  on  the  stand  one  would 
have  taken  her  for  a  boarding  school  miss  who  in 
some  inconsequent  fashion  had  got  mixed  up  in 
a  frolic  for  which  no  really  logical  explanation 
could  be  given. 

Then  the  door  in  the  back  of  the  court  room 
opened  and  James  Parker  was  led  to  the  bar, 
where  in  the  presence  of  the  jury  he  pleaded 
guilty  to  the  forgery  of  the  very  signature  for 
which  his  wife  was  standing  trial.  (Kauser  check, 
Fig.  6.)  He  was  then  sworn  as  a  witness,  took 
the  stand  and  testified  that  he  had  written  all  the 
forged  signatures  to  the  checks,  including  the 
signatures  upon  "the  Peabody  sheet." 

The  District  Attorney  found  himself  in  an  em-' 
barrassing  position.  If  Parker  was  the  forger, 
why  not  challenge  him  to  write  the  forged  signa- 
tures upon  the  witness  stand  and  thus  to  prove  his 
alleged  capacity  for  so  doing  ?  The  obvious  objec- 
tion to  this  was  that  Parker,  in  anticipation  of  this 
test,  had  probably  been  practicing  the  signature  in 
the  Tombs  for  months.  On  the  other  hand  if  the 
District  Attorney  did  not  challenge  him  to  write 
the  signatures,  the  defense  would  argue  that  he  was 

26 


The  Woman  in  the  Case 

afraid  to  do  so,  and  that  as  Parker  had  sworn  him- 
self to  be  the  forger  it  was  not  incumbent  upon  the 
defense  to  prove  it  further — that  that  was  a  matter 
for  cross  examination. 

With  considerable  hesitation  the  prosecuting 
attorney  asked  Parker  to  write  the  Kauser  signa- 
ture, which  was  the  one  set  forth  in  the  indictment, 
charging  the  forgery,  and  after  much  backing  and 
filling  on  the  part  of  the  witness,  who  ingeniously 
complained  that  he  was  in  a  bad  nervous  condi- 
tion owing  to  lack  of  morphine,  in  consequence  of 
which  his  hand  trembled  and  he  was  in  no  condi- 
tion to  write  forgeries,  the  latter  took  his  pen  and 
managed  to  make  a  very  fair  copy  of  the  Kauser 
signature  from  memory,  good  enough  in  fact  to 
warrant  a  jury  in  forming  the  conclusion  that  he 
was  in  fact  the  forger.  (Fig.  7.)  This  closed  the 
case. 

The  defense  claimed  that  it  was  clear  that  James 
Parker  was  the  forger,  since  he  had  admitted  it  in 
open  court,  pleaded  guilty  to  the  indictment  and 
proved  that  he  had  the  capacity.  The  prosecu- 
tion, upon  the  other  hand,  argued  that  the  evi- 
dence was  conclusive  that  the  defendant  herself 
was  the  writer  of  the  check.  The  whole  thing 
boiled  down  to  whether  or  not  the  jury  was  going 
to  believe  that  Mrs.  Parker  had  written  "the  Pea- 
body  sheet"  in  the  presence  of  the  detective,  when 

27 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

her  husband  claimed  that,  with  the  exception  of 
Mabel's  signature,  he  had  done  it  himself  and 
carelessly  left  the  paper  in  his  desk  in  the  room. 

The  prosecuting  attorney  was  at  his  wits'  end 
for  an  argument  to  meet  the  fact  that  Parker  had 
written  a  sample  forgery  of  the  Kauser  signature 
before  the  very  eyes  of  the  jury.  He  found  it  at 


FIG.  7. — Parker's  copy  of  the  signature  of  Alice  Kauser, 
made  in  court  in  an  attempt  to  shield  his  wife. 

last  in  an  offer  on  his  own  part  in  open  court  during 
his  "summing  up"  to  write  for  the  jury  from 
memory  a  better  forgery  of  the  Kauser  signature 
than  that  written  by  Parker  himself,  and  thus  to 
show  how  simple  a  matter  it  was  to  learn  to  do  so. 
He  had  taken  up  his  pen  and  was  about  to  give 
a  sample  of  his  handiwork  in  this  respect  when 

28 


The  Woman  in  the  Case 

the  defendant  grasped  her  counsel's  arm  and 
whispered:  "For  God's  sake,  don't  let  him  do 
it!"  whereupon  the  lawyer  arose  and  objected, 
saying  that  such  evidence  was  improper,  as  the 
case  was  closed.  As  might  have  been  expected 
under  the  circumstances,  considering  the  blunders 
of  the  prosecution  and  the  ingenuous  appearance 
of  the  defendant,  the  trial  ended  in  a  disagree- 
ment, the  jury  standing  eight  to  four  for  acquittal. 
The  District  Attorney's  office  now  took  up  a 
thorough  investigation  of  the  case,  with  the  result 
that  on  a  second  prosecution  Mrs.  Parker  was 
confronted  with  a  mass  of  evidence  which  it  was 
impossible  for  her  to  refute.  A  boy  named  Wallace 
Sweeney,  sentenced  to  the  Elmira  Reformatory, 
was  found  to  have  been  an  active  accomplice  of 
the  Parkers  for  several  years,  and  he  was  accord- 
ingly brought  down  to  New  York,  where  he  gave 
a  complete  history  of  his  relations  with  them.  His 
story  proved  beyond  any  doubt  that  Mrs.  Parker 
was  the  forger  of  the  checks  in  the  possession  of 
the  District  Attorney,  and  of  many  others  beside, 
some  of  them  for  very  large  amounts.  The  evi- 
dence of  Sweeney  was  of  itself  quite  sufficient  to 
warrant  a  conviction.  To  make  assurance  doubly 
sure,  however,  the  District  Attorney  upon  the 
second  trial  moved  a  new  indictment,  setting  forth 
as  the  forgery  a  check  signed  "E.  Bierstadt,"  so 

29 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

that  when  Parker  took  the  stand,  as  he  had  done 
in  the  former  trial  and  testified  that  he  was  the 
forger,  he  found  himself  unable  to  write  this 
new  signature,  and  hence  his  testimony  went  for 
nothing. 

But  even  the  testimony  of  Sweeney  was  that  of 
an  accomplice,  requiring  corroboration,  while  that 
of  Peabody  remained  the  evidence  of  "a  mere  po- 
liceman/' eager  to  convict  the  defendant  and 
"add  another  scalp  to  his  official  belt."  With  an 
extraordinary  accumulation  of  evidence  the  case 
hinged  on  the  veracity  of  these  two  men,  to  which 
was  opposed  the  denial  of  the  defendant  and  her 
husband.  It  is  an  interesting  fact  that  in  the  final 
analysis  of  the  case  the  jury  were  compelled  to  de- 
termine the  issue  by  evidence  entirely  documentary 
in  character.  It  is  also  an  illustration  of  what  tiny 
facts  stamp  whole  masses  of  testimony  as  true  or 
false. 

On  her  examination  Mrs.  Parker  had  sworn 
among  other  things:  (i)  That  she  had  no  knowl- 
edge of  the  envelope,  the  back  of  which  had  been 
used  by  Parker  for  the  purpose  of  directing  Rogers, 
Peet  &  Co.  to  deliver  the  clothes  and  money  to 
his  messenger — and,  of  course,  that  the  words 
"Mr.  Geo.  B.  Lang"  were  not  in  her  hand- 
writing. This  was  one  of  the  envelopes  claimed  by 
the  prosecution  to  have  been  originally  addressed 

30 


The  Woman  in  the  Case 

in  pencil  and  sent  to  themselves  by  the  Parkers 
through  the  mail  for  this  precise  purpose.  (2) 
That  she  had  never  seen  the  '  Kauser  practice 
sheets,"  and  that  the  words  "Alice  Kauser,"  re- 
peated hundreds  of  times  thereon,  were  not  in  her 
handwriting.  For  some  reason  unknown  to  the 
District  Attorney,  however,  she  admitted  having 
written  the  words  "I  am  upstairs  in  the  bath- 
room" upon  a  similar  sheet,  but  claimed  that  at 
the  time  this  was  done  the  reverse  of  the  paper 
was  entirely  blank. 

Microscopic  examination  showed  that  among 
the  words  "Alice"  and  "Kauser"  on  the  practice 
sheets  some  one  had  written  a  capital  "  M."  One 
of  the  legs  of  the  "M"  crossed  and  was  superim- 
posed upon  a  letter  in  the  word  "Alice."  Hence, 
whoever  wrote  the  "M"  knew  what  was  on  the 
practice  sheet.  An  enlargement  of  this  "  M"  and 
a  comparison  of  it  with  the  "M"  in  the  defend- 
ant's signature  to  her  formal  examination  in  the 
police  court,  with  the  "M"  in  "Mr."  in  the  ad- 
dress on  the  envelope  and  with  that  in  the  "  Mrs." 
on  the  "  Peabody  sheet,"  rendered  it  obvious  that 
they  were  all  written  by  one  and  the  same  hand. 
Therefore  it  was  clear  that  the  defendant  was 
familiar  with  the  contents  of  the  practice  sheets 
(Fig.  8.),  even  if  she  had  not  written  them  herself 
and  had  not  told  the  truth  in  this  regard. 

31 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Moreover,  it  was  fairly  easy  to  see  that  the  same 
hand  that  had  written  the  words  "  I  am  upstairs  in 
the  bath-room"  upon  the  second  practice  sheet 
had  at  the  same  time  and  with  the  same  pen  writ- 
ten the  rest  of  the  sheet.  This  was  clearly  per- 
ceptible on  examining  the  "e's"  and  "a's." 

A  comparison  of  the  address  "Mr.  Geo.  B. 
Lang"  (on  Fig.  i)  with  the  name  Mrs.  James  D. 
Singley  (on  Fig.  4)  also  shows  clearly  that  one  and 
the  same  person  wrote  them  both.  And  to  the 
accuracy  of  all  these  self-evident  propositions  a 
leading  handwriting  expert  in  New  York  added 
his  unqualified  opinion. 

Thus,  but  for  a  little  carelessness  in  failing  to 
destroy  odd  scraps  of  paper  and  to  disguise  her 
penmanship  which  it  seemed  to  her  quite  unneces- 
sary to  do,  as  in  the  address  of  the  "Lang"  en- 
velope), Mrs.  Parker  might  well  have  gone  free- 
after  all. 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  all  the  varied  dra- 
matic features  of  this  interesting  case.  No  one 
who  was  present  is  likely  to  forget  the  impression 
made  by  the  defendant  at  her  second  trial,  when  in 
defiance  of  overwhelming  proof  she  still  struggled 
to  vindicate  herself. 

Her  counsel  contended  throughout  the  trial  that 
she  was  a  hitherto  innocent  young  woman  led  astray 
and  started  upon  a  criminal  career  by  a  rascally 

32 


The  Woman  in  the  Case 

husband,  whom  she  still  loved  devotedly  and  for 
whose  sake  she  had  prepared  to  confess  herself  a 
criminal.  That  James  Parker  introduced  his  wife 
to  a  life  of  crime  there  can  be  no  doubt,  but  that  she 
had  a  natural  predilection  for  it  must  be  equally 
obvious.  It  is  probably  true  that  Mabel  Parker's 
affection  for  her  convict  husband  was  unfeigned 
and  deep.  The  natural  repugnance  of  the  Ameri- 
can jury  for  convicting  a  woman  was  shown  when 
in  spite  of  the  overwhelming  proof  upon  the 
Parker  woman's  second  trial  the  jury  remained 
out  eight  hours  and  then  found  her  guilty  of  "ut- 
tering only,"  with  a  strong  recommendation  for 
mercy.  She  was  sentenced  to  the  Bedford 
Reformatory. 


33 


FIVE   HUNDRED   MILLION 
DOLLARS 


II 
Five  Hundred  Million  Dollars 

THIS  story,  which  ends  in  New  York,  begins 
in  the  Department  of  the  Gironde  at  the 
town  of  Monsegur,  seventy-five  kilometers  from 
Bordeaux,  in  the  little  vineyard  of  Monsieur 
Emile  Lapierre — "landowner."  In  1901  Lapierre 
was  a  happy  and  contented  man,  making  a  good 
living  out  of  his  modest  farm.  To-day  he  is — 
well,  if  you  understand  the  language  of  the  Gi- 
ronde, he  will  tell  you  with  a  shrug  of  his  broad 
shoulders  that  he  might  have  been  a  Monte  Cristo 
had  not  le  loon  Dieu  willed  it  otherwise.  For  did 
he  not  almost  have  five  hundred  million  dollars- 
two  and  a  half  milliards  of  francs — in  his  very 
hands  ?  Hein?  But  he  did!  Does  M'sieu'  have 
doubts  ?  Nevertheless  it  is  all  true.  C'est  trop 
vrai!  Is  M'sieu'  tired  ?  And  would  he  care  to 
hear  the  story  ?  There  is  a  comfortable  chair  sous 
le  grand  arbre  in  front  of  the  veranda,  and  Madame 
will  give  M'sieu'  a  glass  of  wine  from  the  presses 

37 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

across  the  road.  Yes,  it  is  good  wine,  but  there  is 
little  profit  in  it,  when  one  thinks  in  milliards. 

The  landowner  lights  his  pipe  and  seats  himself 
cross-legged  against  the  trunk  of  the  big  chestnut. 
Back  of  the  house  the  vineyard  slopes  away  toward 
the  distant  woods  in  straight,  green,  trellised  al- 
leys. A  dim  haze  hangs  over  the  landscape  sleep- 
ing so  quietly  in  the  midsummer  afternoon.  Down 
the  road  comes  heavily,  creaking  and  swaying,  a 
wain  loaded  with  a  huge  tower  of  empty  casks  and 
drawn  by  two  oxen,  their  heads  swinging  to  the 
dust.  Yes,  it  is  hard  to  comprendre  twenty-five 
hundred  million  francs. 

It  was  this  way.  Madame  Lapierre  was  a  Tes- 
sier  of  Bordeaux — an  ancient  bourgeois  family,  and 
very  proud  indeed  of  being  bourgeois.  You  can 
see  her  passing  and  repassing  the  window  if  you 
watch  carefully  the  kitchen,  where  she  is  super- 
intending dinner.  The  Tessiers  have  always 
lived  in  Bordeaux  and  they  are  connected  by  mar- 
riage with  everybody — from  the  blacksmith  up  to 
the  Mayor's  notary.  Once  a  Tessier  was  Mayor 
himself.  Years  and  years  ago  Madame's  great- 
uncle  Jean  had  emigrated  to  America,  and  from 
time  to  time  vague  rumors  of  the  wealth  he  had 
achieved  in  the  new  country  reached  the  ears  of 
his  relatives — but  no  direct  word  ever  came. 

Then  one  hot  day — like  this — appeared  M.  le 

38 


Five  Hundred  Million  Dollars 

General.  He  came  walking  down  the  road  in  the 
dust  from  the  gare,  in  his  tall  silk  hat  and  frock 
coat  and  gold-headed  cane,  and  stopped  before 
the  house  to  ask  if  one  of  the  descendants  of  a  cer- 
tain Jean  Tessier  did  not  live  hereabouts.  He  was 
fat  and  red-faced,  and  he  perspired,  but — Dieu  !— 
he  was  distingue,  and  he  had  an  order  in  his  but- 
tonhole. Madame  Lapierre,  who  came  out  to 
answer  his  question,  knew  at  once  that  he  was  an 
aristocrat. 

Ah!  was  she  herself  the  grandniece  of  Jean 
Tessier?  Then,  Heaven  be  thanked!  the  Gen- 
eral's toilsome  journey  was  ended.  He  had  much 
to  tell  them — when  he  should  be  rested.  He  re- 
moved the  silk  hat  and  mopped  his  shining  fore- 
head. He  must  introduce  himself  that  he  might 
have  credit  with  Madame,  else  she  might  hardly 
listen  to  his  story,  for  there  had  never  been  a  tale 
like  it  before  since  the  world  was.  Let  him  present 
himself — M.  le  General  Pedro  Suarez  de  Moreno, 
Count  de  Tinoco  and  Marquis  de  la  d'Essa.  Al- 
though one  was  fatigued  it  refreshed  one  to  be  the 
bearer  of  good  news,  and  such  was  his  mission. 
Let  Madame  prepare  herself  to  hear.  Yes,  it 
would  be  proper  for  her  to  call  M'sieu',  her  hus- 
band, that  he  might  participate. 

Over  a  draft  of  this  same'  vintage  M.  le  General 
imparted  to*  them  the  secret.  Lapierre  laughs 

39 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

and  shrugs  his  shoulders  as  he  recalls  the  scene 
— the  apoplectic  General,  with  the  glass  of  wine 
in  one  hand,  waving  the  other  grandiloquently 
as  he  described  the  wealth  about  to  descend  upon 
them. 

Yes,  the  General  must  begin  at  the  beginning, 
for  it  was  a  long  story.  First,  as  to  himself  and 
how  he  came  to  know  of  the  affair.  It  had  been 
on  his  return  from  the  Philippines  after  the  sur- 
render of  Manila,  where  he  had  been  in  command 
of  the  armies  of  Spain,  that  he  had  paused  for  re- 
pose in  New  York  and  had  first?  learned  of  the 
Tessier  inheritance.  The  precise  manner  of  his 
discovery  was  left  somewhat  indefinite,  but  the 
Lapierres  were  not  particular.  So  many  distin- 
guished persons  had  played  a  part  in  the  drama 
that  the  recital  left  but  a  vague  impression  as  to 
individuals.  A  certain  Madame  Luchia,  widow 
of  one  Roquefailaire,  whom  he  had  accidentally 
met,  had  apparently  been  the  instrument  of  Provi- 
dence in  disclosing  the  history  of  Jean  Tessier  to 
the  General.  She  herself  had  been  wronged  by 
the  villains  and  knew  all  the  secrets  of  the  con- 
spirators. But  she  had  waited  for  a  suitable  op- 
portunity to  speak.  Jean  Tessier  had  died  pos- 
sessed of  properties  which  to-day,  seventy  years 
after,  were  worth  in  the  neighborhood  of  five  hun- 
dred million  dollars!  The  General  paused  for  the 

40 


Five  Hundred  Million  Dollars 

effect,  solemnly  nodding  his  head  at  his  astounded 
auditors  in  affirmance.  Yes,  it  was  even  so! 

Five  hundred  million  dollars!  No  more — and  no 
less!  Then  he  once  more  took  up  the  thread  of  his 
narrative. 

Tessier's  lands,  originally  farms,  were  to-day 
occupied  by  huge  magasins,  government  buildings, 
palaces  and  hotels.  He  had  been  a  frugal,  hard- 
working, far-seeing  man  of  affairs  whose  money  had 
doubled  itself  year  by  year.  Then  had  appeared 
one  Emmeric  Lespinasse,  a  Frenchman,  also  from 
Bordeaux,  who  had  plotted  to  rob  him  of  his  estate, 
and  the  better  to  accomplish  his  purpose  had  en- 
tered the  millionaire's  employ.  When  Tessier  died, 
in  1884,  Lespinasse  had  seized  his  papers  and  the 
property,  destroyed  his  will,  dispersed  the  clerks, 
secretaries,  "notaries"  and  accountants  of  the  de- 
ceased, and  quietly  got  rid  of  such  persons  as  stood 
actively  in  his  way.  The  great  wealth  thus  ac- 
quired had  enabled  him  to  defy  those  who  knew 
that  he  was  not  entitled  to  the  fortune,  and  that 
the  real  heirs  were  in  far-away  France. 

He  had  prospered  like  the  bay  tree.  His  daugh- 
ter, Marie  Louise,  had  married  a  distinguished 
English  nobleman,  and  his  sons  were  now  the 
richest  men  in  America.  Yet  they  lived  with  the 
sword  of  Damocles  over  their  heads,  suspended  by 
a  single  thread,  and  the  General  had  the  knife 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

wherewith  to  cut  it.  Lespinasse,  among  other 
things,  had  caused  the  murder  of  the  husband  of 
Madame  Luchia,  and  she  was  in  possession  of 
conclusive  proofs  which,  at  the  proper  moment, 
could  be  produced  to  convict  him  of  his  many 
crimes,  or  at  least  to  oust  his  sons  and  daughter 
from  the  stolen  inheritance. 

It  was  a  weird,  bizarre  nightmare,  no  more  as- 
tonishing than  the  novels  the  Lapierres  had  read. 
America,  they  understood,  was  a  land  where  the 
rivers  were  full  of  gold — a  country  of  bronzed  and 
handsome  savages,  of  birds  of  paradise  and  ruined 
Aztec  temples,  of  vast  tobacco  fields  and  planta- 
tions of  thousands  of  acres  of  cotton  cultivated  by 
naked  slaves,  while  one  lay  in  a  hammock  fanned 
by  a  "petite  negre"  and  languidly  sipped  eau 
sucree.  The  General  had  made  it  all  seem  very, 
very  real.  At  the  weak  spots  he  had  gesticulated 
convincingly  and  digressed  upon  his  health.  Then, 
while  the  narrative  was  fresh  and  he  might  have 
had  to  answer  questions  about  it  had  he  given  his 
listeners  opportunity  to  ask  them,  he  had  hastily 
told  of  a  visit  to  Tunis.  There  he  had  by  chance 
encountered  Marie  Louise,  the  daughter  of  Lespi- 
nasse, living  with  her  noble  husband  in  a  "  hand- 
some Oriental  palacc,"had  been  invited  to  dine  with 
them  and  had  afterward  seized  the  occasion  while 
"walking  in  the  garden"  with  the  lady  to  disclose 

42 


Five  Hundred  Million  Dollars 

the  fact  that  he  knew  all,  and  had  it  in  his  power 
to  ruin  them  as  impostors.  Marie  Louise  had  been 
frightfully  angry,  but  afterward  her  better  nature 
had  suggested  the  return  of  the  inheritance,  or  at 
least  a  hundfed  millions  or  so,  to  the  rightful  heirs. 
The  General  had  left  the  palace  believing  all  would 
be  well,  and  had  retired  to  Paris  to  await  letters 
and  further  developments,  but  these  had  never 
come,  and  he  had  discovered  that  he  had  been  de- 
ceived. It  had  been  merely  a  ruse  on  the  part  of 
the  woman  and  her  husband  to  gain  time,  and 
now  every  step  that  he  took  was  dogged  by  spies 
in  the  pay  of  the  Lespinasses,  who  followed  him 
everywhere.  But  the  right  would  triumph!  He 
had  sworn  to  run  the  conspiracy  to  earth! 

Many  hours  were  consumed  in  the  telling  of  the 
story.  The  Lapierres  were  enchanted.  More 
than  that,  they  were  convinced — persuaded  that 
they  were  heirs  to  the  richest  inheritance  in  the 
world,  which  comprised  most  of  the  great  Ameri- 
can city  of  New  York. 

Persons  who  were  going  tb  participate  in  twenty- 
five  hundred  millions  of  francs  could  afford  to  be 
hospitable.  M.  le  General  stayed  to  dinner.  A 
list  of  the  heirs  living  in  or  near  Bordeaux  was 
made  out  with  the  share  of  each  in  the  inheritance 
carefully  computed.  Madame  Lapierre's  was 
only  fifty  million  dollars — but  still  that  was  almost 

43 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

enough  to  buy  up  Bordeaux.  And  they  could 
purchase  Monsegur  as  a  country  place.  The 
General  spoke  of  a  stable  of  automobiles  by 
means  of  which  the  journey  from  Bordeaux  to 
the  farm  could  be  accomplished  in  the  space  of 
an  hour. 

That  night  the  good  man  and  his  wife  scarcely 
closed  their  eyes,  and  the  next  day,  accompanied 
by  the  General,  they  visited  Bordeaux  and  the 
neighboring  towns  and  broke  the  news  gently  to 
the  other  heirs.  There  was  M.  Petti t,  the  veter- 
inary at  Mormand;  Tessier,  the  blacksmith  in 
Bordeaux;  M.  Pelegue  and  his  wife,  M.  Rozier, 
M.  Cazenava  and  his  son,  and  others.  One  branch 
of  the  family  lived  in  Brazil — the  Joubin  Freres 
and  one  Tessier  of  "Saint  Bezeille."  These  last 
had  to  be  reached  by  post,  a  most  annoyingly 
slow  means  of  communicaiton — mats  que  voulez- 
vous? 

Those  were  busy  days  in  and  around  Bordeaux, 
and  the  General  was  the  centre  of  attraction.  What 
a  splendid  figure  he  cut  in  his  tall  silk  hat  and  gold- 
headed  cane!  But  they  were  all  very  careful  to  let 
no  inkling  of  their  good  fortune  leak  out,  for  it 
might  spoil  everything — give  some  opportunity  to 
the  spies  of  the  impostor  Lespinasse  to  fabricate 
new  chains  of  title  or  to  prepare  for  a  defense  of  the 
fortune.  The  little  blacksmith,  being  addicted  to 

44 


Five  Hundred  Million  Dollars 

white  wine,  was  the  only  one  who  did  not  keep  his 
head.  But  even  he  managed  to  hold  his  mouth 
sufficiently  shut.  A  family  council  was  held;  M. 
le  General  was  given  full  power  of  attorney  to  act 
for  all  the  heirs;  and  each  having  contributed  an 
insignificant  sum  toward  his  necessary  expenses, 
they  waved  him  a  tremulous  good-by  as  he  stood 
on  the  upper  deck  of  the  steamer,  his  silk  hat 
in  one  hand  and  his  gold-headed  cane  in  the 
other. 

"He  will  get  it,  if  any  one  can!"  cried  the  black- 
smith enthusiastically. 

"It  is  as  good  as  ours  already!"  echoed  Rozier. 

"My  friends,"  Madame  Lapierre  assured  them, 
"a  General  of  the  armies  of  Spain  and  a  Chevalier 
of  the  Order  of  Jiminez  would  die  rather  than  fail 
in  his  mission.  Besides,"  she  added,  her  French 
blood  asserting  itself,  "he  is  to  get  nineteen  per 
cent,  of  the  inheritance!" 

As  long  as  the  steamer  remained  in  sight  the 
General  waved  encouragingly,  his  hat  raised 
toward  Heaven. 

"Mfl/j-,"  says  Lapierre,  with  another  shrug  as 
he  lights  his  pipe,  "even  you  would  have  believed 
him.  V raiment  I  He  would  have  deceived  the 
devil  himself!" 

Up  the  road  the  wain  comes  creaking  back 
again.  A  crow  flaps  across  the  vineyard,  laugh- 

45 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

ing  scornfully  at  good  M.  Lapierre,  and  you  your- 
self wonder  if  such  a  thing  could  have  been  possible. 

On  a  rainy  afternoon  in  March,  1905,  there  en- 
tered the  writer's  office  in  the  Criminal  Courts 
Building,  New  York  City,  a  ruddy,  stoutly-built 
man,  dressed  in  homespun  garments,  accompanied 
by  an  attractive  and  vivacious  little  woman,  who, 
while  unable  to  speak  a  single  word  of  English, 
had  no  difficulty  in  making  it  obvious  that  she  had 
a  story  to  tell  of  the  most  vital  importance.  An 
interpreter  was  soon  found  and  the  names  of  the 
visitors  disclosed.  The  lady,  who  did  the  talking 
for  both  of  them,  introduced  herself  as  Madame 
Valoie  Reddon,  of  Bordeaux,  and  her  companion 
as  M.  Emile  Lapierre,  landowner,  of  Monsegur, 
They  had  come,  she  explained,  from  France  to 
take  possession  of  the  inheritance  Tessier.  She 
was  a  personal  friend  of  Madame  Lapierre,  and  as 
the  Tessiers  had  exhausted  all  their  money  in  pay- 
ing the  expenses  connected  with  securing  the  for- 
tune, she,  being  a  well-to-do  gentlewoman,  had 
come  to  their  assistance,  and  for '  the  last  few 
months  had  been  financing  the  enterprise  on  a  fif- 
teen per  cent,  basis.  If  Madame  Lapierre  was  to 
receive  ten  million  dollars,  then,  to  be  sure,  Ma- 
dame Reddon  would  have  one  million  five  hundred 
thousand  dollars;  but,  of  course,  it  was  not  for  the 

46 


Five  Hundred  Million  Dollars 

money,  but  on  account  of  friendship,  that  she  was 
aiding  them.  I  would  understand  that  three  years 
had  elapsed  since  a  certain  distinguished  General 
Pedro  Suarez  de  Moreno  had  disclosed  to  the  La- 
pierres  the  fact  that  Madame  was  the  heiress  to 
the  greatest  estate  in  America.  M.  Lapierre  sol- 
emnly nodded  confirmation  as  the  lady  proceeded. 
It  was  the  one  subject  talked  about  in  the  Gironde 
and  Bordeaux— that  is,  among  those  who  had  been 
fortunate  enough  to  learn  anything  about  it.  And 
for  three  years  the  Tessiers,  their  wives,  their  sons' 
wives,  and  their  connections,  had  been  waiting  to 
receive  the  glad  tidings  that  the  conspirators  had 
been  put  to  rout  and  the  rightful  heirs  reinstated. 
It  was  some  time  before  the  good  lady  suc- 
ceeded in  convincing  her  auditor  that  such  a  ri- 
diculous fraud  as  she  described  had  actually  been 
perpetrated.  But  there  was  M.  Lapierre  and  there 
was  Madame  Valoie  Reddon  sitting  in  the  office  as 
living  witnesses  to  the  fact.  What  wonderful  per- 
son could  this  General  Moreno  be,  who  could  hyp- 
notize a  hard-headed,  thrifty  farmer  from  the 
Gironde  and'  a  clever  little  French  woman  from 
Bordeaux  into  believing  that  five  hundred  million 
dollars  was  waiting  for  them  on  the  other  side  of 
the  Atlantic!  I  expressed  my  surprise.  Madame 
Reddon  shrugged  her  sloping  shoulders.  Well, 
perhaps  it  was  hard  for  M'sieu'  to  believe,  but 

47 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

then  there  were  the  proofs,  the  documents,  the 
dossier,  and,  most  of  all,  there  was  the  General 
himself.  Oh*  if  M'sieu'  could  see  the  General  in 
his  tall  silk  hat  and  gold-headed  cane! 

I  asked  for  the  documents.  Madame  Reddon 
opened  her  bag  and  produced  a  package  of  nearly 
one  hundred  letters,  written  in  a  fine  Spanish 
hand.  Oh !  he  had  been  a  wonderful  writer,  this 
gorgeous  Count  de  Tinoco  and  Marquis  de  la 
d'Essa.  She  had  met  him  herself  when  he  had 
been  in  Bordeaux.  Madame  Lapierre  had  intro- 
duced him  to  her,  and  she  had  heard  him  talk. 
How  beautifully  he  talked !  The  stories  of  his  ex- 
periences as  General  of  the  armies  of  Spain  under 
Don  Carlos  and  as  Brigadier-General  in  the  Phil- 
ippines were  as  fascinating  as  a  romance.  But  it 
was  his  letters  which  had  really  led  her  to  take  a 
personal  interest  in  the  undertaking.  With  a  sigh 
Madame  Valoie  untied  the  little  blue  ribbon  which 
bound  up  the  pitiful  little  history.  If  M'sieu' 
would  be  good  enough  to  grant  the  time  she  would 
begin  at  the  beginning.  Here  was  his  first  letter 
written  after  the  General's  return  to  America: 

June  25,  *02. 
MY  DEAR  M.  LAPIERRE: 

We  have  had  a  terrible  voyage.  A  horrible  storm 
broke  loose  in  mid-ocean,  endangering  all  our  lives.  .  .  . 
The  waves,  like  mountains,  threatened  every  instant  to 

48 


Five  Hundred  Million  Dollars 

swallow  us  all;  the  spectacle  was  terrifying.  I  fell  from 
the  top  of  the  stairs  'way  down  into  the  hole  (sic),  hurting 
my  right  leg  in  the  centre  of  the  tibia  bone.  The  ship's 
doctor,  who  is  nothing  but  a  stupid  fool,  left  me  helpless 
almost  the  entire  day.  ...  If  ever  I  should  have  dreamt 
what  would  occur  to  me  in  this  trip,  not  for  all  the  gold 
in  the  world  would  I  have  embarked.  But,  now  that  I 
am  here,  I  shall  not  retreat  before  any  obstacle,  in  order 
to  arrive  at  the  fulfillment  of  my  enterprise,  and  no  mat- 
ter at  what  cost,  even  at  that  of  my  life.  It  is  necessary 
that  I  succeed — my  pride  demands  it.  Those  who  are  in 
the  right  shall  triumph,  that  is  sure.  ...  In  the  mean 
time,  will  you  kindly  give  my  regards  to  Madame  and 
your  son,  and  all  of  your  relatives,  not  forgetting  your 
good  old  servant.  Squeezing  your  hand  cordially,  I  bid 
you  adieu. 

Your  devoted, 

PEDRO  S.  DE  MORENO. 

"Can  you  not  see  the  waves,  and  observe  him 
falling  down  the  hole?"  asks  Madame  Reddon. 
"Mais,  void  une  autre." 

July  n,  1902. 
M.  JEAN  LAPIERRE. 

My  dear  M.  Lapierre:  As  soon  as  I  could  walk  a  little 
I  began  my  research  for  the  impostors  of  the  inheritance 
Tessier.  Without  a  doubt  some  person  who  is  interested 
in  the  case  has  already  advised  them  of  my  arrival  in 
New  York,  and  to  take  the  necessary  precautions  to  lead 
me  astray  in  my  researches. 

Already  I  have  discovered  almost  everything.  I  know 
even  the  house  in  which  resided  the  deceased  before  his 
death.  It  is  a  house  of  twenty-five  stories  high,  which 
resembles  the  Church  of  Saint  Magdalene  in  Paris.  To- 

49 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

day  it  is  the  biggest  bank  in  New  York.  I  have  visited  it 
from  top  to  bottom,  ascending  and  descending  in  steel 
elevators.  This  is  a  marvelous  palace;  it  is  worth  more 
than  five  million  dollars.  The  house  itself  has  the  num- 
bers 100,  102,  104,  106,  108,  1 10,  112,  114,  116  and  118. 
In  other  words,  it  covers  the  ground  of  ten  other  houses 
made  into  one. 

I  haVe  also  visited  six  houses  belonging  to  him,  which 
are  worth  millions  and  are  located  around  Central 
Park.  .  .  . 

As  soon  as  the  brothers  Lespinasse  knew  that  I  had 
arrived  in  New  York  they  immediately  took  their  de- 
parture, one  for  Paris  to  find  his  father,  Emmeric  Lespi- 
nasse, the  other  to  the  city  of  Tuxpan,  in  Mexico,  to  visit 
the  properties  stolen  from  the  heirs.  I  have  come  to  an 
understanding'  with  the  Reverend  Father  Van  Rensse- 
laer,  Father  Superior  of  the  Jesuits,  and  have  offered  him 
two  millions  for  his  poor,  in  recompense  for  his  aid  to 
recover  and  to  enter  into  possession  of  the  inheritance. 
He  takes  great  pains,  and  is  my  veritable  guide  and  con- 
fidant. .  .  . 

I  have  visited  Central  Park,  also  a  property  of  the  de- 
ceased; this  property  alone  is  worth  more  than  twenty 
million  dollars.  ...  I  have  great  confidence  in  my  suc- 
cess, and  I  am  almost  sure  to  reach  the  goal,  if  you  are 
the  heirs,  for  here  there  is  a  mix-up  by  all  the  devils.  .  .  . 

The  wound  of  my  leg  has  much  improved,  the  conse- 
quences which  I  feared  have  disappeared,  and  I  expect 
soon  my  complete  convalescence,  but  the  devil  has  be- 
stowed upon  me  a  toothache,  which  makes  me  almost 
crazy  with  pain.  I  shall  leave,  nevertheless,  to  begin  my 
campaign. 

Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  give  my  regards  to  your 
wife  and  son,  and  to  our  old  friend,  etc.,  etc. 

PEDRO  S.  DE  MORENO. 
50 


Five  Hundred  Million  Dollars 

"May  the  devil  bestow  upon  him  five  hundred 
million  toothaches!"  exclaims  Lapierre,  for  the 
first  time  showing  any  sign  of  animation. 

The  other  letters  were  read  in  their  order,  inter- 
spersed with  Madame  Reddon's  explanations  of 
their  effect  upon  the  heirs  in  France.  His  descrip- 
tion of  the  elevators  of  steel  and  of  the  house  that 
covered  an  entire  block  had  caused  a  veritable 
sensation.  Alas!  those  wonders  are  still  wonders 
to  them,  and  they  still,  I  fancy,  more  than  half 
believe  in  them.  The  letters  are  lying  before  me 
now,  astonishing  emanations,  totally  ridiculous  to 
a  prosaic  American,  but  calculated  to  convince 
and  stimulate  the  imagination  of  a  petit  bour- 
geois. 

The  General  in  glowing  terms  paints  his  efforts 
to  run  down  the  Lespinasse  conspirators.  Al- 
though suffering  horribly  from  his  fractured  tibia 
(when  he  fell  into  the  "hole"),  and  from  other  dire 
ills,  he  has  "  not  taken  the  slightest  rest."  He  has 
been  everywhere — "New  Orleans,  Florida,  to  the 
city  of  Coney  Island  " — to  corner  the  villains,  who 
"flee  in  all  directions."  The  daughter,  Marie 
Louise,  through  whom  the  General  expects  to  se- 
cure a  compromise,  has  left  for  New  Orleans. 
"Wonderful  coincidence,"  he  writes,  "they  were 
all  living  quietly  and  I  believe  had  no  intention 
whatever  to  travel,  and  two  days  after  my  arrival 

51 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

in  New  York  they  all  disappeared.  The  most  sus- 
picious of  it  all  is  that  the  banker,  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren had  left  for  Coney  Island  for  the  summer  and 
to  spend  their  holidays,  and  certainly  they  disap- 
peared without  saying  good-by  to  their  intimate 
friends.  ...  I  have  the  whole  history  of  Tessier's 
life  and  how  he  made  his  fortune.  There  is  a  fam- 
ily for  the  use  of  whom  we  must  give  at  least  a 
million,  for  the  fortune  of  Tessier  was  not  his 
alone.  He  had  a  companion  who  shared  his 
troubles  and  his  work.  According  to  the  will  they 
were  to  inherit  one  from  the  other;  the  companion 
died,  and  Tessier  inherited  everything.  I  do  not 
see  the  necessity  of  your  trip  to  New  York;  that 
might  make  noise  and  perhaps  delay  my  negotia- 
tions." Then  follows  the  list  of  properties  em- 
braced in  the  inheritance: 


PROPERTY  AND  PERSONAL  ESTATE  OF 
THE  HEIRS 

The  land  of  Central  Park  ceded  to  the 

city  of  New  York,  of  the  value  of  $5,000,000.00 

He  had  at  the  National  Bank — United 

States  Bank — deposited  in  gold — 

twenty  to  thirty  million  dollars.    He 

never  withdrew  anything;    on  the 

contrary,  he  always  deposited  his  in- 
come there  25,000,000.00 

The  big  house  on  Broadway,  Nos.  100 

to  118,  of  twenty-five  stories,  to-day 

the  largest  bank  in  New  York.    .    .  5,000,000.00 

52 


Five  Hundred  Million  Dollars 

4  The  house  on  Fifth  Avenue,  No.  765, 

facing  Central  Park,  to-day  one  of 
the  first  hotels  of  New  York— Hotel 
Savoy $8,000,000.00 

5  House  on  Fifth  Avenue,  No.  767,  fac- 

ing Central  Park,  to-day  the  biggest 
and  most  handsomest  of  American 
hotels,  where  the  greatest  people  and 
millionaires  stop — Hotel  Nether- 
land  20,000,000.00 

6  Two  coal  mines  at  Folkustung  in  Texas  9,000,000.00 

7  A   petroleum   mine   in   Pennsylvania 

(Mexican  frontier) 6,000,000.00 

8  Shares    of   silver   mine    at    Tuxpan, 

Mexico 10,000,000.00 

9  The  house  at  Tuxpan  and  its  grounds, 

Mexico 15,000.00 

10  The  pleasure  home  and  grounds  in 

Florida  (New  Orleans)  in  the  city  of 

Coney  Island    ........  500,000.00 

1 1  The  house  which  covers  all  the  Esquare 

Plaza  (no  number  because  it  is  all 
alone).  It  is  an  immense  palace, 
with  a  park  and  gardens,  and  waters 
forming  cascades  and  labyrinths, 
facing  Central  Park 12,000,000.00 

12  The  block  of  houses  on  Fifth  and  Sixth 

Avenues,  facing  on  this  same  Central 
Park,  which,  as  all  these  grounds  be- 
long to  him,  he  had  put  up.  They 
are  a  hundred  houses,  that  is  called 
here  a  block 30,000,000.00 

13  He  is  the  owner  of  two  railroads  and 

owns  shares  of  others  in  Pennsyl- 
vania and  Canada  .  .  .  .  .  .  40,000,000.00 

14  A  line  of  steam  and  sail  boats — Atlan- 

tic.   The  Pennsylvania  and  the  Tes- 

sier  and  other  names 100,000,000.00 

53 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

15  A  dock  and  a  quay  of  eight  hundred 

meters  on  the  Brooklyn  River  for 

his  ships $120,000,000.00 

1 6  Several  values  and  debts  owed  him  and 

which  at  his  death  had  not  been  col- 
lected       40,000.00 


Which  is  in  francs  .     .     1,952,775,000 
Plus  5  per  cent.      .    .  976,388 


Total  in  francs   .     .     i,953>75i>388 

"Do  you  blame  us  ?"  asks  Madame  Valoie,  as  I 
listen  as  politely  as  possible  to  this  Arabian  Nights' 
dream  of  riches. 

The  letters  continue:  The  General  is  sur- 
rounded by  enemies,  of  which  the  worst  are  French, 
and  he  is  forced  continually  to  change  his  residence 
in  order  to  escape  their  machinations.  But  all  this 
takes  money.  How  can  he  go  to  Tuxpan  or  to  the 
city  of  Coney  Island?  "You  cannot  know  nor 
imagine  the  expense  which  I  have  had  to  discover 
that  which  I  have  discovered.  I  cannot  live  here 
like  a  miser,  for  the  part  I  represent  demands  much 
of  me.  Every  moment  I  change  my  residence,  and 
that  costs  money."  He  adds  a  little  touch  of  detail. 
"I  must  always  be  dressed  properly,  and  laundry 
is  very  dear  here — a  shirt  costs  twenty-five  cents 
to  wash,  and  there  are  other  necessary  expenses. 
.  .  .  You  have  forgotten  to  tell  me  if  you  have 
received  the  album  of  views  of  New  York  in  which 

54 


Five  Hundred  Million  Dollars 

I  have  indicated  the  properties  of  the  deceased. 
I  squeeze  your  hand." 

"Yes,  and  our  purses  too,"  adds  Madame 
Valoie.  "Would  M'sieu'  care  to  see  the  album  of 
the  Tessier  properties  ?  Yes  ?  M'sieu'  Lapierre, 
kindly  show  the  gentleman." 

Lapierre  unbuttons  his  homespun  coat  and  pro- 
duces a  cheap  paper-covered  blank  book  in  which 
are  pasted  small  photographs  and  woodcuts  of 
various  well-known  New  York  buildings.  It  is 
hard  not  to  smile. 

"M'sieu*  will  see,"  continues  Madame  Valoie, 
"that  the  dream  had  something  substantial  about 
it.  When  we  saw  these  pictures  in  Bordeaux  we 
were  on  the  point  of  giving  up  in  despair,  but  the 
pictures  convinced  us  that  it  was  all  true.  More- 
over, just  at  that  time  the  General  intimated  that 
unless  he  had  more  money  he  might  yield  to  the 
efforts  of  the  Lespinasse  family  to  buy  him  off." 

Madame  Valoie  points  vindictively  to  a  certain 
paragraph  in  one  of  the  letters :  "  Of  course  they 
are  convinced  that  I  am  not  for  sale,  not  for  any- 
thing. .  .  .  To  my  regret,  my  very  great  regret,  I 
shall  be  forced  to  capitulate  if  you  do  not  come  to 
my  aid  and  that  quickly,  for  I  repeat  to  you  that 
my  funds  are  all  gone." 

"And  here  is  his  bill,"  continues  Madame  Va- 
loie, producing  a  folded  document  composed  of 

55 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

countless  sheets  of  very  thin  paper,  bound  together 

at  the  edges  by  strips  of  heavier  material.  This, 

when  unfolded,  stretches  entirely  across  the  room 

and  is  seen  to  be  composed  of  hundreds  of  type- 
written items,  of  which  the  following  may  serve  as 
illustrations: 

EXPENSES  IN  NEW  YORK 

July  12,  Train  to  New  Orleans $25.50 

"     16,  Train  to  Florida 2.50 

"      "    Dinner  on  train 2.00 

"     17,  Hotel  in  Florida 2.00 

"     18,  Trip  to  Coney  Island 50 

"     19,  Return  to  Florida .50 

"     21,  Return  from  Florida  to  New  Orleans    ...  2.50 

"      "     Laundry 1.15 

Dec.    3,  Return  to  New  York      .     : 6.50 

"     24,  Train  to  Vera  Cruz 57-5° 

Jan.    4,  Trip  to  Tuxpan 2.50 

"       5,  Return  to  Vera  Cruz 2.50 

"       6,  Sudden  night  trip  to  Halifax,  Nova  Scotia,  via 

Buffalo  and  Niagara  Falls 50 .50 

"     18,  Laundry  for  three  months 5.00 

Etc.,  etc. 

EXTRAORDINARY  EXPENSES 

To  Agent  Pushyt  John,  a  meerschaum  and  amber  cigar- 
holder  and  pipe  . $7.00 

Tobacco  jar  of  shell  and  silver 4.00 

To  Indian  Peter  South-Go,  a  watch,  a  suit  and  a  pair  of 

shoes 16.50 

To  my  general  agent  of  confidential  reports  for  his 

daughter,  a  gold  ring  and  a  feather  fan  ...  7.00 

A  necktie  for  himself  and  scarf-pin  in  gold  and  with  stone 

for  the  necktie 8.60 

56 


Five  Hundred  Million  Dollars 

To  the  letter-carrier  to  bring  me  my  correspondence  and 
not  give  it  to  any  one  else  when  I  should  change 
address $4.00 

Invitation  to  the  Consul  and  his  two  agents  in  Washing- 
ton hotel  12. oo 

Several  invitations  to  cafe's  and  saloons  to  the  Police 

Agents 2.00 

Invitations  to  old  employees  of  Jean  Tessier,  to  tear  from 

them  the  declarations 1.50 

Barber  expenses 11.50 

Tobacco  and  matches,  July  to  December,  three  pack- 
ages each  week,  ten  cents  each  .  ......  7.80 

Changing  hotels  to  lead  astray  the  agents  of  the  impos- 
tors    9.50 

Etc.,  etc. 


"To  obtain  a  collossal  fortune  as  yours  will  be, 
it  is  necessary  to  spend  money  unstintingly  and  to 
have  lots  of  patience.  Court  proceedings  will  be 
useless,  as  trickery  and  lies  are  necessary  to  get  the 
best  of  the  scoundrels.  It  is  necessary  also  to  be 
a  scoundrel." 

"That  he  might  well  say/'  interpolates  Lapierre. 
"He  succeed,  cest  sure'' 

I  rapidly  glanced  over  the  remaining  letters. 
The  General  seems  always  to  be  upon  the  verge 
of  compelling  a  compromise.  "I  have  already 
prepared  my  net  and  the  meshes  are  tightly  drawn 
so  that  the  fish  will  not  be  able  to  escape.  .  .  .  For 
an  office  like  this  one  needs  money — money  to  go 
quickly  from  one  place  to  another,  prosecute  the 
usurpers,  not  allow  them  an  instant's  rest.  If 

57 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

they  go  to  some  city  run  after  them  at  once,  tire 
them  with  my  presence  and  constantly  harass 
them,  and  by  this  means  compel  them  to  hasten 
a  compromise " 

The  General  is  meeting  with  superhuman 
obstacles.  In  addition  to  his  enemies  he  suffers  all 
sorts  of  terrible  bodily  afflictions.  Whenever  the 
remittances  from  the  Lapierres  do  not  arrive  the 
difficulties  and  diseases  increase. 

At  last,  however,  after  an  interval  of  two  years, 
things  took  a  turn  for  the  better.  A  "confidential 
representative"  of  the  conspirators — one  "Mr. 
Benedict-Smith" — arrived  to  make  a  bona  fide 
offer  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  million  dollars  in 
settlement  of  the  case.  The  General  writes  at 
great  length  as  to  exactly  in  what  proportion  the 
money  should  be  divided  among  the  heirs.  The 
thing  is  so  near  a  culmination  that  he  is  greatly 
exercised  over  his  shabby  appearance. 

I  am  without  a  sou  and  too  badly  dressed  to  go  before 
the  banker  in  the  very  likely  case  of  his  arrival  here.  Send 
me  my  baggage  at  once  with  the  first  steamer,  and  mark 
each  piece  "fragile."  This  is  all.  My  regards  to  Ma- 
dame Lapierre  and  your  son.  I  am  cordially  yours, 
squeezing  your  hand. 

PEDRO  S.  DE  MORENO. 

But  the  Lapierres  and  Tessiers,  while  not  for  an 
instant  distrusting  the  honesty  of  the  General,  had 

58 


Five  Hundred  Million  Dollars 

become  extremely  weary  of  sending  him  money. 
Each  heir  felt  that  he  had  contributed  enough 
toward  the  General's  "expenses  and  invitations." 
Even  the  one  hundred  and  fifty  millions  within 
easy  reach  did  not  prompt  immediate  response. 

About  the  same  time  an  extraordinary  messen- 
ger arrived  at  the  Lapierre  farm,  purporting  to 
come  from  the  Ministry  of  Foreign  Affairs,  and 
instructing  Lapierre  to  repair  immediately  to  Paris. 
The  messenger  explained  that  the  presence  of  La- 
pierre was  desired  at  the  Ministry  in  connection 
with  some  investigation  then  in  progress  into  the 
affairs  of  one  Jean  Tessier.  Then  the  messenger 
departed  as  mysteriously  as  he  had  arrived. 

Good  M.  Lapierre  was  highly  excited.  Here  was 
indubitable  evidence  of  the  truth  of  the  General's 
assertions.  But,  just  as  the  latter  had  intended, 
perhaps,  the  worthy  farmer  jumped  to  the  con- 
clusion that  probably  the  messenger  from  Paris 
had  been  sent  by  the  conspirators. 

"At  the  last  moment,"  wrote  Lapierre  to  Mo- 
reno, "I  received  from  Paris  a  letter  commanding 
me  to  go  to  the  Ministry,  and  at  the  same  time  a 
telegram  recommending  that  I  leave  at  once.  I 
shall  write  you  from  Paris  all  that  I  learn  to  your 
interest.  If  this  letter  should  not  reach  you  sealed 
in  red  wax,  with  small  indentations  made  with  a 
sewing  thimble  and  my  initials,  which  I  always 

59 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

sign,  it  is  that  our  correspondence  is  seized  and 
read." 

Events  followed  in  rapid  succession.  Lapierre, 
the  Tessiers,  including  the  little  blacksmith,  be- 
came almost  hysterical  with  excitement.  A  gen- 
tleman, by  name  "Mr.  Francis  Delas,"  called  upon 
Lapierre  and  offered  him  twenty-five  million  dol- 
lars spot  cash  for  his  wife's  share  in  the  Tessier 
inheritance.  This  person  also  claimed  that  he  had 
a  power  of  attorney  from  all  the  other  heirs,  with 
the  exception  of  Pettit  and  Rozier,  and  asserted 
that  he  was  on  the  point  of  embarking  for  New 
York  in  their  interest.  He  urged  Lapierre  to  sub- 
stitute him  for  Moreno.  But  Lapierre,  now  con- 
vinced that  everything  was  as  the  General  had 
claimed  it  to  be,  indignantly  rejected  any  such 
proposition  aimed  at  his  old  friend,  and  sent  Mr. 
Francis  Delas  packing  about  his  business. 

"This  is  what  my  answer  has  been  to  him:  'Sir,  we 
have  already  an  agent  with  whom  we  can  only  have  cause 
to  be  satisfied,  so  that  your  services  are  not  acceptable  or 
needed.'  He  left  me  most  dissatisfied  and  scolding.'* 

The  sending  of  this  confederate  on  the  part  of 
the  wily  General  had  precisely  the  effect  hoped  for. 
Lapierre  and  his  friends  were  now  convinced  that 
the  inheritance  Tessier  was  a  reality,  and  that  pow- 
erful personages  were  not  only  exerting  their  in- 

60 


Five  Hundred  Million  Dollars 

fluence  to  prevent  the  rightful  heirs  from  obtain- 
ing their  property,  but  had  also  in  some  way 
secured  the  cooperation  of  government  officials. 
It  was  agreed,  on  all  hands,  that  the  worthy  land- 
owner, accompanied  by  Madame  Reddon,  had 
better  proceed  at  once  to  the  scene  of  operations 
and  unite  with  the  General  in  their  common  pur- 
pose. Once  on  the  ground  Lapierre  could  assume 
direction  of  his  own  campaign. 

Lapierre  and  Madame  Reddon  accordingly 
sailed  for  America  and  arrived  in  New  York  on 
the  fourth  of  December,  1904,  where  they  were 
met  on  the  dock  by  the  General,  who,  freshly  bar- 
bered,  and  with  a  rose  in  his  buttonhole,  invited 
them,  as  soon  as  they  had  recovered  from  the  fa- 
tigue of  landing,  to  make  a  personal  inspection  of 
their  properties. 

These  heirs  to  hundreds  of  millions  of  dollars 
were  conducted  by  the  "Marquis  de  la  d'Essa  and 
Count  de  Tinoco"  to  the  Battery,  where  he  gal- 
lantly seated  them  in  an  electric  surface  car,  and 
proceeded  to  show  them  the  inheritance.  He 
pointed  out  successively  Number  100  Broadway, 
the  "Flatiron"  Building,  the  Fifth  Avenue  Hotel 
and  the  Holland  House,  the  Waldorf-Astoria,  the 
Vanderbilt  mansion  at  Fifty-seventh  Street  and 
Fifth  Avenue,  the  Hotel  Savoy  and  the  Hotel  Neth- 
erland,  incidentally  taking  a  cross-town  trip  to  the 

61 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

ferry  station  at  East  Twenty-third  Street,  and  to 
Bellevue  Hospital.  A  public  omnibus  conveyed 
them  around  Central  Park — also  their  own.  And, 
in  spite  of  the  cold  weather,  the  General  insisted 
on  showing  them  the  "Tessier  mansion  and  estate 
at  Fort  George" — visible  from  the  Washington 
Bridge — "  a  beautiful  property  in  the  centre  of  a 
wood."  Returning,  he  took  them  to  the  Museum 
of  Natural  History  and  to  the  Metropolitan  Mu- 
seum of  Art,  which  contained  "Tessier's  collec- 


tions." 


Having  thus  given  them  a  bird's-eye  view  of  the 
promised  land,  the  General  escorted  them  to  his 
apartments  and  allowed  them  to  see  the  Ark  of  the 
Covenant  in  the  shape  of  a  somewhat  dilapidated 
leather  trunk,  which  contained  a  paper  alleged  to 
be  the  will  of  Jean  Tessier,  made  in  Bellevue  Hos- 
pital (one  of  his  possessions),  and  unlawfully  seized 
by  the  Lespinasse  family.  It  was  only,  Moreno 
alleged,  through  the  powerful  influence  of  the  Jes- 
uits that  he  had  been  able  to  secure  and  keep  a 
copy  of  this  will. 

Although  the  Marquis  de  la  d'Essa  must  have 
known  that  his  days  were  numbered,  he  was  as  gay 
and  as  entertaining  as  ever.  Then,  suddenly,  the 
scales  began  to  fall  from  Madame  Reddon's  eyes. 
The  promised  meeting  with  Marie  Louise  Lespi- 
nasse and  her  mysterious  representative,  "Mr. 

62 


Five  Hundred  Million  Dollars 

Benedict-Smith,"  was  constantly  adjourned;  the 
"  police  agents,"  whom  it  had  been  so  necessary  to 
entertain  and  invite  to  saloons  and  cafes,  were 
strangely  absent,  and  so  were  the  counsellors,  Jes- 
uit Fathers,  bankers,  and  others  who  had  crowded 
the  General's  antechambers.  A  slatternly  Hiber- 
nian woman  appeared,  claiming  the  hero  as  her 
husband;  his  landlady  caused  him  to  be  evicted 
from  her  premises;  and  his  trunk  containing  the 
famous  "dossier"  was  thrown  into  the  street,  where 
it  lay  until  the  General  himself,  placing  it  upon  his 
princely  shoulders,  bore  it  to  a  fifteen-cent  lodg- 
ing-house. 

"And  now,  M'sieu',"  said  little  Madame  Red- 
don,  raising  her  hands  and  clasping  them  entreat- 
ingly  before  her,  "  we  have  come  to  seek  vengeance 
upon  this  miserable!  This  villain  msieu!  He 
has  taken  our  money  and  made  fools  of  us.  Surely 
you  will  give  us  justice!" 

"Yes,"  echoed  Lapierre  stubbornly,  "and  the 
money  was  my  own  money,  which  I  had  made 
from  the  products  of  my  farming." 

A  month  later  Don  Pedro  Suarez  de  Moreno, 
Count  de  Tinoco,  Marquis  de  la  d'Essa,  and  Brig- 
adier-General of  the  Royal  Armies  of  the  Philip- 
pines and  of  Spain,  sat  at  the  bar  of  the  General 
Sessions,  twirling  his  mustache  and  uttering  loud 
snorts  of  contempt  while  Lapierre  and  Madame 

63 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Reddon  told  their  story  to  an  almost  incredulous 
yet  sympathetic  jury. 

But  the  real  trial  began  only  when  he  arose  to 
take  the  witness  chair  in  his  own  behalf.  Appar- 
ently racked  with  pain,  and  laboring  under  the 
most  frightful  physical  infirmities,  the  General, 
through  an  interpreter,  introduced  himself  to  the 
jury  by  all  his  titles,  asserting  that  he  had  inher- 
ited his  patents  of  nobility  from  the  "Prince  of 
Arras,"  from  whom  he  was  descended,  and  that  he 
was  in  very  truth  "General-in-Chief  of  the  Ar- 
mies of  the  King  of  Spain,  General  Secretary  of 
War,  and  Custodian  of  the  Royal  Seal."  He  ad- 
mitted telling  the  Lapierres  that  they  were  the 
heirs  of  five  hundred  million  dollars,  but  he  had 
himself  honestly  believed  it.  When  he  and  the 
rest  of  them  had  discovered  their  common  error 
they  had  turned  upon  him  and  were  now  hounding 
him  out  of  revenge.  The  courtly  General  was  as 
distingue  as  ever  as  he  addressed  the  hard-headed 
jury  of  tradesmen  before  him.  As  what  canaille 
he  must  have  regarded  them!  What  a  position 
for  the  "Count  de  Tinoco"! 

Then  two  officers  entered  the  courtroom  bearing 
the  famous  trunk  of  the  General  between  them. 
The  top  tray  proved  to  contain  thousands  of  rail- 
road tickets.  The  prosecutor  requested  the  de- 
fendant to  explain  their  possession. 

64 


Five  Hundred  Million  Dollars 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Moreno,  twirling  his  mus- 
taches, "when  I  was  General  under  my  King  Don 
Carlos,  in  the  Seven  Years'  War  of  '75  and  also  in 
Catalonia  in  '80,  I  issued  these  tickets  to  wounded 
soldiers  for  their  return  home.  At  the  boundaries 
the  Spanish  tickets  were  exchanged  for  French 
tickets."  He  looked  as  if  he  really  meant  it. 

Then  the  prosecutor  called  his  attention  to  the 
fact  that  most  of  them  bore  the  date  of  1891  and 
were  printed  in  French — not  in  Spanish.  The 
prisoner  seemed  greatly  surprised  and  muttered 
under  his  breath  vaguely  about  "plots"  and 
"conspiracies."  Then  he  suddenly  remembered 
that  the  tickets  were  a  "collection,"  made  by  his 
little  son. 

Beneath  the  tickets  were  found  sheaves  of  blank 
orders  of  nobility  and  blank  commissions  in  the 
army  of  Spain,  bearing  what  appeared  to  be  the 
royal  seal.  These  the  General  asserted  that  he 
had  the  right  to  confer,  by  proxy,  for  his  "King 
Don  Carlos."  Hundreds  of  other  documents 
bearing  various  arms  and  crests  lay  interspersed 
among  them.  The  prisoner  drew  himself  up  mag- 
nificently. 

"I  was  the  General  Secretary  of  War  of  my 
King,"  said  he.  "When  I  had  to  give  orders  to  the 
generals  under  me,  of  whom  I  was  the  chief,  I  had 
the  right  to  put  thereon  the  royal  imprint  of  Don 

65 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Carlos.  I  was  given  all  the  papers  incident  to  the 
granting  of  orders  and  grades  in  the  army,  and  I 
had  the  seal  of  the  King — the  seal  of  the  Royal 
King." 

But,  unfortunately  for  the  prisoner,  the  seals 
upon  the  papers  turned  out  to  be  the  legitimate 
arms  of  Spain  and  not  those  of  Don  Carlos,  and  as 
a  finale  he  ingenuously  identified  the  seal  of  the 
Mayor  of  Madrid  as  that  of  his  "  Royal  King." 

Next  came  a  selection  of  letters  of  nobility, 
sealed  and  signed  in  the  name  of  Pope  Leo  the 
Thirteenth.  These,  he  asserted,  must  have  been 
placed  there  by  his  enemies.  "  I  am  a  soldier  and 
a  general  of  honor,  and  I  never  did  any  such  traf- 
ficking," he  cried  grandly,  when  charged  with  sell- 
ing bogus  patents  of  nobility. 

He  explained  some  of  his  correspondence  with 
the  Lapierres  and  his  famous  bill  for  twelve  thou- 
sand dollars  by  saying  that  when  he  found  out  that 
the  inheritance  Tessier  did  not  exist  he  had  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  making  a  novel  of  the  story — a 
"fantastic  history" — to  be  published  "in  four  lan- 
guages simultaneously,"  and  asserted  solemnly 
that  he  had  intended  printing  the  whole  sixteen 
feet  of  bill  as  part  of  the  romance. 

Then,  to  the  undisguised  horror  of  the  unfortu- 
nate General,  at  a  summons  from  the  prosecutor 
an  elderly  French  woman  arose  in  the  audience 

66 


Five  Hundred  Million  Dollars 

and  came  to  the  bar.  The  General  turned  first 
pale,  then  purple.  He  hotly  denied  that  he  had 
married  this  lady  in  France  twenty-three  years  ago. 

"Name  of  a  name!  He  had  known  her!  Yes — • 
certainly !  But  she  was  no  wife  of  his — she  had  been 
only  his  servant.  The  other  lady — the  Hibernian 
— was  his  only  wife."  But  the  chickens  had  begun 
to  come  home  to  roost.  The  pointed  mustaches 
drooped  with  an  unmistakable  look  of  dejection, 
and  as  he  marched  back  to  his  seat  his  shoulders 
no  longer  had  the  air  of  military  distinction  that 
one  would  expect  in  a  general  of  a  "  Royal  King." 
His  head  sank  on  his  chest  as  his  deserted  wife 
took  the  stand  against  him — the  wife  whom,  he  had 
imagined,  he  would  never  see  again. 

Any  one  could  have  seen  that  Elizabeth  de  Mo- 
reno was  a  good  woman.  Her  father's  name,  she 
said,  was  Nichaud,  and  she  had  first  met  the  pris- 
oner twenty-three  years  ago  in  the  village  of  Dalk, 
in  the  Department  of  the  Tarne,  where,  in  1883, 
he  had  been  convicted  and  sentenced  for  stealing 
bed  linen  from  the  Hotel  Kassam.  She  had  re- 
mained faithful  to  him  in  spite  of  his  disgrace,  and 
had  visited  him  daily  in  prison,  bringing  him  milk 
and  tobacco.  On  his  liberation  she  had  married  him 
and  they  had  gone  to  live  in  Bordeaux.  For  years 
they  had  lived  in  comfort,  and  she  had  borne  him 
eight  children.  He  had  never  been  to  any  war 

6? 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

and  was  neither  a  general  nor,  so  far  as  she  had 
known,  a  friend  of  Don  Carlos.  She  had  supposed 
that  her  husband  held  some  position  in  connection 
with  the  inspection  of  railroads,  but,  in  1902,  it  had 
come  out  that  he  was  in  the  business  of  selling 
counterfeit  railroad  tickets,  and  had  employed  a 
printer  named  Paul  Casignol  to  print  great  num- 
bers of  third-class  tickets  for  the  purpose  of  selling 
them  to  ignorant  soldiers  and  artisans.  Moreno 
had  fled  to  America.  She  had  then  discovered  that 
he  had  also  made  a  practice  of  checking  worthless 
baggage,  stealing  it  himself  and  then  presenting 
claims  therefor  against  the  railroad  companies. 
She  had  been  left  without  a  sou,  and  the  rascal 
had  taken  everything  she  had  away  with  him,  in- 
cluding even  the  locket  containing  the  hair  of  her 
children.  By  the  time  she  had  finished  her  story 
Moreno's  courage  had  deserted  him,  the  jury  with- 
out hesitation  returned  a  verdict  of  guilty,  and  the 
judge  then  and  there  sentenced  the  prisoner  to  a 
term  at  hard  labor  in  State's  prison. 

"Mais  oui,"  grunts  Lapierre,  as  the  crow,  with 
a  final  caw  of  contempt,  alights  in  a  poplar  farther 
down  the  road,  "  I  don't  blame  the  bird  for  laugh- 
ing at  me.  But,  after  all,  there  is  nothing  to  be 
ashamed  of.  Is  one  to  be  blamed  that  one  is 
fooled  ?  Hein!  We  are  all  made  fools  of  once  and 

68 


Five  Hundred  Million  Dollars 

again,  and,  as  I  said  before,  he  would  have  deceived 
the  devil  himself.  But  perhaps  things  are  better 
as  they  are.  Money  is  the  root  of  all  evil.  If  I  had 
an  automobile  I  should  probably  be  thrown  out 
and  have  my  neck  broken.  But  if  M'sieu'  intends 
to  take  the  next  train  for  Bordeaux  it  is  as  well 
that  he  should  be  starting." 


69 


THE  LOST  STRADIVARIUS 


Ill 
The  Lost  Stradivarius 

Fthe  year  1885  Jean  Bott,  a  native  of  Hesse 
Cassel,  Germany,  emigrated  with  his  wife 
Matilda  to  this  country,  bringing  with  him  a  cele- 
brated violin  known  as  "The  Duke  of  Cambridge 
Stradivarius,"  which  he  had  purchased  in  1873 
for  about  three  thousand  thalers — a  sum  repre- 
senting practically  the  savings  of  a  lifetime.  Bott 
had  been  leader  of  a  small  orchestra  in  Saxe  Mein- 
ingen  as  early  as  1860,  and  was  well  advanced  in 
years  before  he  determined  to  seek  his  fortune  in 
America.  His  wife  was  an  elderly  woman  and 
they  had  no  offspring. 

"This  violin,  my  husband  and  myself  made  up 
the  family — 1  loved  it  like  a  child,"  she  testified  at 
the  trial. 

So  also  did  Bott,  the  old  musician,  love  his  in- 
strument, and  no  hand  but  his  own  was  ever  per- 
mitted to  lift  it  from  its  case  or  dust  its  darkly- 
glowing  surface. 

73 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Whatever  may  have  been  its  owner's  genius,  he 
prospered  little  in  the  new  world,  and,  although  he 
labored  conscientiously  at  his  profession,  the  year 
1894  found  him  still  giving  lessons  upon  the  violin 
to  only  half  a  dozen  pupils,  and  living  in  two 
rooms  at  355  West  Thirty-first  Street.  But  Bott, 
having  the  soul  of  a  true  musician,  cared  but  little 
for  money  and  was  happy  enough  so  long  as  he 
could  smoke  his  old  meerschaum  pipe  and  draw 
the  bow  across  the  cherished  violin  held  lovingly 
to  his  cheek.  Then  hard  times  came  a-knocking 
at  the  door.  The  meagre  account  in  the  savings- 
bank  grew  smaller  and  smaller.  The  landlord,  the 
doctor  and  the  grocer  had  to  be  paid.  One  night 
Bott  laid  down  his  pipe  and,  taking  his  wife's 
wrinkled  hand  in  his,  said  gently: 

"Matilda,  there  is  nothing  else — we  must  sell 
our  violin!" 

"Even  so!"  she  answered,  turning  away  her  face 
that  her  husband  might  not  see  the  tears.  "As 
God  wills." 

The  next  day  "The  Duke  of  Cambridge  Stradi- 
varius"  was  offered  for  sale  by  Victor  S.  Flechter, 
a  friend  of  Bott's,  who  was  a  dealer  in  musical  in- 
struments at  23  Union  Square.  It  so  happened 
that  Nicolini,  the  husband  of  Adelina  Patti,  was 
ambitious  to  own  a  genuine  Stradivarius,  and  had 
been  looking  for  one  for  a  long  time,  and,  although 

74 


The  Lost  Stradivarius 

he  was  but  an  indifferent  player,  he  had,  in  default 
of  skill  to  perform,  the  money  to  buy.  The  matter 
was  easily  adjusted  by  Flechter,  and  Nicolini  drew 
his  check  for  the  sum  specified,  which,  properly 
certified,  was  tendered  to  Bott.  But  Bott  had 
never  seen  a  certified  check  and  was  unaccustomed 
to  the  ways  of  business. 

"If  I  part  with  my  violin  I  must  have  real  money 
— money  that  I  can  feel — money  that  I  can  count. 
It  was  that  kind  of  money  that  I  paid  for  my  vio- 
lin," said  he  doggedly. 

Nicolini,  in  a  rage,  believing  himself  insulted, 
tore  the  check  to  bits  and  declared  the  transaction 
at  an  end. 

Now  the  price  agreed  upon  for  the  violin  had 
been  forty-five  hundred  dollars,  of  which  Flechter 
was  to  receive  five  hundred  dollars  as  his  commis- 
sion, and  when,  through  old  Professor  Bott's  stub- 
bornness, the  sale  fell  through,  the  dealer  was 
naturally  very  angry.  Out  of  this  incident  grew 
the  case  against  Flechter. 

The  old  musician  was  accustomed  to  leave 
his  treasured  instrument  in  the  lowest  drawer 
of  his  bureau  at  the  boarding-house.  He  al- 
ways removed  it  before  his  pupils  arrived  and 
never  put  it  back  until  their  departure,  thus  in- 
suring the  secrecy  of  its  hiding-place,  and  only 
his  wife,  his  sister-in-law,  Mollenhauer,  a  friend, 

75 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

and  Klopton,  a  prospective  purchaser,  knew 
where  it  lay. 

On  the  morning  of  March  31,  1894,  not  long 
after  the  Nicolini  incident,  Bott  gave  a  single  lesson 
to  a  pupil  at  the  boarding-house,  and  after  his 
midday  meal  set  out  with  his  wife  for  Hoboken  to 
visit  a  friend.  The  violin  was  left  in  its  custom- 
ary place.  It  was  dark  when  they  returned,  and 
after  throwing  off  his  coat  and  lighting  the  gas 
the  old  man  hastened  to  make  sure  that  his 
precious  violin  was  safe.  When  he  pulled  out 
the  drawer  it  was  empty.  The  Stradivarius  was 
gone,  with  its  leather  case,  its  two  bows  and  its 
wooden  box. 

Half  distracted  the  musician  and  his  wife 
searched  everywhere  in  the  room,  in  closets,  under 
beds,  even  behind  the  curtains,  before  they  could 
bring  themselves  to  admit  that  the  violin  had  in 
fact  disappeared.  Frantically  Bott  called  for  Ellen, 
the  servant  girl.  Yes,  there  had  been  a  caller — a 
young  man  with  dark  hair  and  a  small,  dark  mus- 
tache— at  about  five  o'clock.  He  had  waited  about 
half  an  hour  and  then  had  said  that  he  guessed  he 
would  go.  She  had  not  noticed  that  he  took  any- 
thing away  with  him.  In  his  despair  the  old  man 
turned  to  his  old  friend  Flechter,  and  the  next  day 
the  dealer  came  to  express  his  sympathy.  He 
urged  Bott  to  notify  the  police  of  the  theft,  but  the 


The  Lost  Stradivarius 

old  man  was  prostrated  with  grief,  and  it  was  the 
wife  who,  with  Ellen  Clancy,  finally  accompanied 
Flechter  to  Police  Headquarters.  The  police 
had  no  idea  who  had  taken  the  old  fellow's  fiddle, 
and  did  not  particularly  care  anyway.  Later  they 
cared  a  good  deal. 

Bott  now  began  an  endless  and  almost  hopeless 
search  for  his  beloved  instrument,  visiting  every 
place  where  violins  were  sold,  every  pawnshop  and 
second-hand  store  again  and  again  until  the  pro- 
prietors began  to  think  the  old  man  must  be  crazy. 
Sometimes  Flechter  went  with  him.  Once,  the 
two  travelled  all  the  way  over  to  New  Jersey,  but 
the  scent  proved  to  be  a  false  one.  Bott  grew 
thinner  and  older  week  by  week,  almost  day  by 
day.  When  the  professor  did  not  feel  equal  to  go- 
ing outdoors  Mrs.  Bott  went  for  him,  and  on  these 
occasions  often  called  at  Flechter's  store  to  report 
progress,  ask  his  advice  and  secure  his  encourage- 
ment. 

One  day  during  one  of  these  visits  in  the  July 
following  the  loss  of  the  violin  Flechter  handed 
Mrs.  Bott  a  sheet  of  paper,  saying: 

"  I  have  written  something  down  here.  If  you 
have  that  printed  and  put  a  reward  to  it  you  will 
get  your  violin  back." 

The  wording,  partly  printed  and  partly  written 
in  script,  ran  as  follows: 

77 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

VIOLIN  LOST.    #500  REWARD. 

No  questions  asked  for  return  of  instrument  taken  from 
residence  of  Jean  Bott  March  31,  1894,  355  W.  3ist  St. 
Absolute  safety  and  secrecy  guaranteed.  Victor  S. 
Flechter,  No.  21  Union  Square,  violin  maker  and  dealer. 

Mrs.  Bott  thanked  him  and  took  the  notice 
away  with  her,  but  its  publication  had  no  result. 
The  old  professor  began  to  fail,  he  no  longer  had 
an  instrument  upon  which  to  teach  his  pupils,  and 
those  he  could  avail  himself  of  seemed  harsh  and 
discordant.  He  had  no  appetite,  and  even  found 
no  solace  in  his  pipe.  Almost  penniless  they  were 
forced  to  give  up  their  lodgings  and  move  to  Ho- 
boken.  Mrs.  Bott  still  kept  up  the  search,  but  the 
professor  could  no  longer  tramp  the  streets  looking 
for  his  violin.  He  sat  silent  in  his  room,  slowly, 
surely,  dying  of  a  broken  heart. 

In  course  of  time  some  one  advised  Mrs.  Bott  to 
lay  her  case  before  the  District  Attorney,  and  ac- 
cordingly, during  the  summer,  she  visited  the 
Criminal  Courts  Building  and  told  her  story  to 
Colonel  Allen,  one  of  the  assistants,  who  became 
greatly  interested.  The  overwrought  old  woman 
had  begun  to  suspect  everybody,  and  even  to  accuse 
her  husband's  friend,  Flechter,  of  a  lack  of  any  real 
interest.  She  thought  he  ought  to  be  able  to  find 
the  violin  if  he  really  made  the  effort.  Allen  began 

78 


The  Lost  Stradivarius 

to  take  notice.  The  sleuth  in  him  pricked  up  its 
ears.  Why,  sure,  certainly,  Flechter  was  the  one 
man  who  knew  what  Bott's  violin  was  really  worth 
— the  one  man  who  could  sell  it  to  advantage — and 
he  had  been  done  out  of  five  hundred  dollars  by  the 
old  musician's  stupidity.  Allen  thought  he'd  take 
a  look  into  the  thing.  Now,  there  lived  in  the 
same  boarding-house  with  Allen  a  friend  of  his 
named  Harry  P.  Durden,  and  to  Durden  Allen 
recounted  the  story  of  the  lost  violin  and  voiced 
his  suspicions  of  Flechter.  Durden  entered  enthu- 
siastically into  the  case,  volunteering  to  play  the 
part  of  an  amateur  detective.  Accordingly  Dur- 
den, accompanied  by  a  Central  Office  man  named 
Baird,  visited  Flechter's  place  of  business  and  the 
two  represented  themselves  as  connoisseurs  in  vio- 
lins and  anxious  to  procure  a  genuine  Strad.  for  a 
certain  Mr.  Wright  in  St.  Paul.  Flechter  expressed 
entire  confidence  in  his  ability  to  procure  one, 
and  did  almost  succeed  in  purchasing  for  them  the 
so-called  "Jupiter  Strad." 

All  this  took  time,  and  at  last,  on  April  28th,  1895, 
poor  old  Bott  died  in  his  boarding-house  in  Ho- 
boken.  After  the  funeral  the  widow  settled  up  her 
affairs,  changing  her  boarding  place  temporarily, 
and,  having  no  ties  in  this  country,  determined  to 
return  to  end  her  days  in  the  Fatherland.  On  May 
2 1st  she  wrote  to  Flechter,  who  had  lost  all  track  of 

79 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

her,  that  her  husband  had  died,  that  she  had 
moved  to  306  River  Street,  Hoboken,  and  that  she 
thought  seriously  of  going  back  to  Germany.  Two 
days  later  Flechter  wrote  the  following  letter  to  the 
Central  Office  man,  who  had  given  his  name  as 
Southan,  an  employe  of  the  alleged  Mr.  Wright: 

MR.  SOUTHAN,  care  of  H.  P.  Durden. 

Dear  Sir:  Write  to  inform  you  that  I  have  a  genuine 
Strad.  to  offer  you  and  would  like  to  see  you  at  your 
earliest  convenience. 

Very  respectfully  yours, 

VICTOR  S.  FLECHTER. 

When  Allen  saw  this  letter  it  seemed  to  him 
absolutely  to  confirm  his  suspicions.  Now  that 
the  only  person  in  the  world  who  had  been  author- 
itatively able  to  identify  the  "Duke  of  Cambridge" 
Stradivarius  was  dead  Flechter  was  offering  one 
for  sale. 

Then  occurred  the  strangest  thing  of  all.  On 
May  28th,  five  days  after  Flechter' s  letter  to  Sou- 
than, Mrs.  Bott  received  the  following  extraordi- 
nary epistle.  Like  the  notice  given  her  by  Flechter 
in  his  office,  it  was  partly  written  in  printed  cap- 
itals and  partly  in  script. 

May  28,  1895. 
To  MRS.  BOTT,  306  River  Street,  Hoboken,  N.  J. 

Dear  Madam:  I  wish  to  inform  you  that  the  violin 
taken  from  your  house  some  time  ago  will  be  returned 

80 


The  Lost  Stradivarius 

if  you  are  willing  to  abide  by  agreements  that  will  be 
made  between  you  and  I  later  on.  It  was  my  intention 
first  to  dispose  of  it,  but  on  account  of  its  great  value  and 
the  danger  it  would  place  me  in  by  offering  for  sale  being 
a  violin  maker  and  dealer  and  not  being  able  to  sell  with 
safety  for  such  a  large  sum  of  money  I  concluded  to 
wait.  I  have  now  thought  the  matter  over  and  come  to 
the  conclusion  that  a  little  money  is  better  than  none  and 
if  you  are  anxious  for  the  return  of  the  violin  and  willing 
to  pay  a  sum  of  money,  small  compared  with  the  value 
of  the  violin,  I  think  we  can  make  a  deal.  You  can  put 
a  personal  in  the  New  York  Sun  saying  I  am  willing  to 
give  a  sum  of  money  for  the  return  of  the  violin.  No 
questions  asked.  Mrs.  J.  Bott.  When  I  see  your  per- 
sonal in  the  Sun  I  will  let  you  know  how  the  exchange 
can  be  made.  CAVE  DWELLER. 


This  letter  appeared  to  be  written  in  a  somewhat 
similar  hand  to  that  which  penned  the  offer  of  the 
reward,  which,  according  to  Mrs.  Bott,  was 
Flechter's.  By  this  time  the  widow  and  Allen 
were  in  close  communication.  The  "Cave  Dwell- 
er" letter,  could  it  be  shown  to  be  in  Flechter's 
penmanship,  seemed  to  fix  the  crime  on  the  violin 
dealer. 

Flechter's  store  is  two  flights  up  and  looks  out 
into  Union  Square.  Before  the  window  hangs  a 
large  gilded  fiddle  and  the  walls  are  decorated 
with  pictures  of  famous  musicians.  In  the  rear  is 
a  safe  where  the  more  valuable  instruments  are 
kept;  in  the  front  sits  Flechter  himself,  a  stoutish 

81 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

man  of  middle  height,  with  white  hair  and  mus- 
tache. But  on  June  23,  1895,  Flechter  was  out 
when  Durden  and  Baird  called,  and  only  his  clerk 
and  office-boy  were  on  hand.  Durden  wished,  he 
said,  to  see  the  genuine  Strad.  about  which  Mr. 
Flechter  had  written  him.  The  boy  went  to  the 
safe  and  brought  back  a  violin  in  a  red  silk  bag. 
Inside  was  inscribed: 

"Antonius  Stradivarius  Cremonis  fecit  Anno 
Domini  1725." 

The  figures  17  were  printed  and  the  25  written 
in  ink.  Durden  examined  it  for  some  fifteen  min- 
utes and  noted  certain  markings  upon  it. 

On  June  26th  they  called  again,  found  Flechter 
in  and  asked  to  see  the  violin.  This  time  the  dealer 
took  it  himself  from  the  safe,  and,  at  their  request, 
carried  it  to  22  Gramercy  Park,  where  Durden 
said  he  desired  some  experts  to  pass  upon  its  gen- 
uineness. On  the  way  over  Flechter  guaranteed 
it  to  be  a  genuine  Strad.,  and  said  it  belonged  to  a 
retired  merchant  named  Rossman,  who  would 
expect  to  get  four  thousand  dollars  for  it.  He  him- 
self would  want  five  hundred  dollars,  and  Durden 
should  have  five  hundred  dollars,  so  that  they 
must  not  take  less  than  five  thousand  dollars. 

Once  at  Allen's  boarding-house  Flechter  played 
upon  the  violin  for  Durden  and  the  supposed 
Southan,  and  then  the  former  asked  to  be  allowed 

82 


The  Lost  Stradivarius 

to  take  the  instrument  to  a  rear  room  and  show  it  to 
a  friend.  Here  Mrs.  Bott,  positively  identified  the 
violin  as  that  of  her  husband,  clasping  it  to  her 
bosom  like  a  long-lost  child.  This  was  enough  for 
Durden,  who  gave  the  instrument  back  to  Flechter 
and  caused  his  arrest  as  he  was  passing  out  of  the 
front  gate.  The  insulted  dealer  stormed  and  raged, 
but  the  Car  of  Juggernaut  had  started  upon  its 
course,  and  that  night  Flechter  was  lodged  in  the 
city  prison.  Next  morning  he  was  brought  before 
Magistrate  Flammer  in  the  Jefferson  Market  Po- 
lice Court  and  the  violin  was  taken  out  of  its  case, 
which  the  police  had  sealed.  At  this,  the  first 
hearing  in  this  extraordinary  case,  Mrs.  Bott,  of 
course,  identified  the  violin  positively  as  "The 
Duke  of  Cambridge,"  and  several  other  persons 
testified  that,  in  substance,  it  was  Bott's  celebrated 
violin.  But  for  the  defendant  a  number  of  violin 
makers  swore  that  it  was  not  the  Bott  violin  at 
all,  and  more — that  it  was  not  even  a  Stradivarius. 
One  of  them,  John  J.  Eller,  to  whom  it  will  be 
necessary  to  revert  later,  made  oath  that  the  violin 
was  his,  stolen  from  him  and  brought  to  Flechter 
by  the  thief.  On  this  testimony  the  magistrate  natu- 
rally decided  that  the  identity  of  the  instrument 
had  not  been  established  and  ordered  that  Flechter 
be  discharged  and  the  violin  returned  to  him. 
Ordinarily  that  would  have  been  the  end  of  the 

83 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

case,  but  Allen  had  his  own  private  views  as  to 
the  guilt  of  the  dealer  and  on  August  a8th  the 
Grand  Jury  filed  an  indictment  against  Flechter 
accusing  him  of  feloniously  receiving  stolen  prop- 
erty— the  violin — knowing  it  to  have  been  stolen. 
Great  was  Flechter's  anger  and  chagrin,  but  he 
promptly  gave  bail  and  employed  the  ablest  coun- 
sel he  could  afford. 

Now  began  the  second  act  of  this  tragedy  of  er- 
rors. The  case  was  called  for  trial  with  the  Peo- 
ple's interests  in  the  hands  of  James  W.  Osborne, 
just  advancing  into  the  limelight  as  a  resourceful 
and  relentless  prosecutor.  I  say  the  People's  case 
but  perhaps  Allen  s  case  would  be  a  more  fitting  title. 
For  the  defense  Arthur  W.  Palmer  held  the  fort, 
directing  his  fire  upon  Osborne  and  losing  no  ad- 
vantage inadvertently  given  him.  The  noise  of  the 
conflict  filled  the  court  house  and  drowned  the  up- 
roar on  Broadway.  Nightly  and  each  morning  the 
daily  press  gave  columns  to  the  proceedings. 
Every  time  the  judge  coughed  the  important  fact 
was  given  due  prominence.  And  every  gibe  of 
counsel  carried  behind  it  its  insignia  of  recogni- 
tion— "  [Laughter.]"  It  was  one  of  those  first  great 
battles  in  which  the  professional  value  of  com- 
pressed air  as  an  explosive  force  and  small  pica 
type  as  projectiles  was  demonstrated.  It  was  a 
combat  of  wind  and  lead — an  endurance  contest 

84 


The  Lost  Stradivarius 

during  which  the  jury  slept  fitfully  for  three  long 
weeks. 

Two  things,  the  prosecution  claimed,  proved 
Flechter's  guilt:  first,  the  fact  that  the  violin  found 
in  his  possession  was  "The  Duke  of  Cambridge"; 
second,  that  the  "  Cave-Dweller "  letter  was  in  the 
same  handwriting  as  Flechter's  notice  of  reward. 

Of  course  the  latter  proposition  carried  with  it 
the  necessity  of  proving  in  the  first  place  that  the 
notice  itself  was  in  Flechter's  penmanship.  Flech- 
ter  through  his  counsel  said  it  wasn't,  and  that  he 
had  never  told  Mrs  Bott  that  it  was.  He  claimed 
that  his  brother-in-law,  John  D.  Abraham,  had 
written  it.  Mrs.  Bott,  he  alleged,  was  an  old  lady 
and  was  mistaken  in  her  testimony  when  she  swore 
that  he  had  said,  "I  have  written  down  some- 
thing/' He  had  not  said  so.  Mr.  Abraham  cor- 
roborated him.  He  had  written  it  himself  sitting 
in  an  armchair,  all  but  the  words  "355  West 
Thirty-first  Street,"  which  had  been  put  in  by  a 
certain  Mr.  Jopling  who  had  been  present.  Mr. 
Jopling  swore  that  that  was  so,  too.  But,  on 
cross-examination,  it  developed  that  Mr.  Abraham 
had  been  practicing  making  copies  of  the  notice 
at  the  suggestion  of  the  lawyer  for  the  defense, 
and,  when  Mr.  Jopling  took  the  stand,  he  was 
called  upon  to  explain  an  affidavit  made  by 
him  for  Assistant  District  Attorney  Allen,  in  which 

85 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

he  affirmed  that  he  did  not  know  who  wrote  the 
words  "355  West  Thirty-first  Street/'  His  ex- 
planation did  not  explain,  and,  anyhow,  there  did 
not  seem  to  be  any  particular  reason  why  Abra- 
ham and  Jopling  should  have  written  Flechter's 
notice  for  him.  Besides,  even  if  Flechter  did  not 
write  it  and  Abraham  did,  it  would  still  remain 
almost  as  bad  for  Flechter  if  it  was  shown  that 
"Cave  Dweller"  was  his  own  brother-in-law. 

But  Mrs.  Bott  was  a  woman  who  appealed 
strongly  to  a  jury's  sympathies,  and  she  was  clear 
that  Flechter  had  said  that  he  had  written  the 
notice.  Moreover,  she  recalled  that  the  date  had 
first  been  written  May  and  that  Flechter  had 
erased  it  and  inserted  March  in  its  place.  A 
microscopic  examination  revealed  the  fact  that 
such  an  erasure  had  been  made.  When  the 
smoke  cleared  the  credibility  of  the  defense  ap- 
peared badly  damaged.  But  the  precise  point  was 
of  little  importance,  after  all.  The  great  question 
was:  the  identity  of  'CAVE  DWELLER.'  On  this 
point  a  number  of  witnesses  testified  from  a  gen- 
eral knowledge  of  Flechter's  handwriting  that  the 
"Cave  Dweller"  letter  was  his,  and  three  well- 
known  handwriting  "experts"  (Dr.  Persifor  Fra- 
zer,  Mr.  Daniel  T.  Ames  and  Mr.  David  Carvalho) 
swore  that,  in  their  opinion,  the  same  hand  had 
written  it  that  had  penned  the  notice. 

86 


The  Lost  Stradivarius 

It  is  not  unlikely  that  Flechter's  fear  of  a  con- 
viction led  him  to  invite  testimony  in  his  behalf 
which  would  not  bear  the  test  of  careful  scrutiny. 
Many  an  innocent  man  has  paid  the  penalty 
for  uncommitted  crime  because  he  has  sought  to 
bolster  up  his  defense  with  doubtful  evidence 
without  the  incubus  of  which  he  would  have  been 
acquitted. 

Naturally  the  chief  point  against  Flechter,  if  it 
could  be  established,  was  his  actual  possession  of 
the  Bott  Stradivarius  when  he  was  arrested.  Upon 
this  proposition  Mrs.  Bott  was  absolutely  positive 
beyond  the  possibility  of  error.  So  were  eight 
other  witnesses  for  the  prosecution.  Then  the  de- 
fense produced  a  violin  alleged  to  be  the  same 
one  exhibited  in  the  police  court  and  brought 
by  Flechter  to  Durden's  house,  and  asked  Mrs. 
Bott  and  her  witnesses  what  they  thought  of 
it.  Mrs.  Bott  could  not  identify  it,  but  she  swore 
no  less  positively  that  it  was  an  entirely  different 
violin  from  the  one  which  she  had  seen  before  the 
magistrate.  Then  Osborne  hurled  his  bomb  over 
his  enemy's  parapet  and  cried  loudly  that  a  mon- 
strous wicked  fraud  had  been  perpetrated  to 
thwart  Justice — that  the  defense  had  "  faked  "  an- 
other violin  and  were  now  trying  to  foist  the  bogus 
thing  in  evidence  to  deceive  the  Court.  Ten  wit- 
nesses for  the  prosecution  now  swore  that  the  violin 

8? 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

so  produced  was  not  the  one  which  Flechter  had 
tried  to  sell  Durden.  Of  course  it  would  have  been 
comparatively  easy  to  "fake"  a  violin,  just  as  Os- 
borne  claimed,  and  the  case  sheds  some  light  upon 
the  possibilities  of  the  "old  violin"  industry. 

The  star  witness  for  the  prosecution  to  prove 
that  the  instrument  produced  in  the  police  court 
was  the  Bott  violin  was  August  M.  Gemunder, 
and  his  testimony  upon  the  trial  before  Recorder 
Goff  is  worthy  of  careful  examination,  since  the 
jury  considered  it  of  great  importance  in  reaching 
a  verdict,  even  requesting  that  it  should  be  re-read 
to  them  some  hours  after  retiring  to  deliberate. 
Gemunder  testified,  in  substance,  that  he  belonged 
to  a  family  which  had  been  making  violins  for 
three  generations  and  had  himself  been  making 
them  for  twenty  years,  that  he  was  familiar  with 
Bott's  Stradivarius,  having  seen  it  three  times,  and 
that  he  firmly  believed  a  large  part  of  the  violin 
produced  before  the  magistrate  was  the  missing 
Bott — certainly  the  back  and  scroll.  Moreover,  he 
was  able  to  describe  the  markings  of  the  Bott  violin 
even  to  the  label  inside  it.  It  should  be  mentioned, 
however,  that  in  the  magistrate's  court  he  had  been 
called  only  to  describe  the  Bott  violin  and  not  to 
identify  the  one  produced  as  the  Bott  itself.  He 
further  swore  that  the  violin  now  offered  by  the  de- 
fense on  the  trial  was  not  the  one  in  evidence  be- 

88 


The  Lost  Stradivarius 

fore  the  magistrate,  but  was  one  which  he  had 
sold  some  years  before  to  one  Charles  Palm. 

The  defense,  on  the  other  hand,  called  among  its 
witnesses  John  P.  Frederick,  a  violin  maker,  who 
testified  that  he  was  familiar  with  the  Bott  Strad. 
and  had  seen  it  in  1873  at  Bott's  house,  Grenecher 
Castle,  in  Germany;  that  he  had  repaired  it  in  this 
country  in  1885;  that  the  instrument  in  court  was 
not  a  Strad.  nor  even  a  good  imitation  of  one,  and, 
of  course,  was  not  the  "  Duke  of  Cambridge,"  but 
that  it  was  the  identical  instrument  produced  be- 
fore the  magistrate,  and  one  which  he  recognized 
as  having  been  sent  him  for  repair  by  Charles 
Palm  in  1885. 

Thus  both  sides  agreed  that  the  fiddle  now  of- 
fered in  evidence  was  a  bogus  Strad.  once  belong- 
ing to  a  man  named  Palm,  the  only  element  of  con- 
flict being  as  to  whether  or  not  the  violin  which 
Flechter  had  offered  for  sale  was  the  Palm  in- 
strument, or,  in  fact,  Bott's  famous  "Duke  of 
Cambridge." 

All  this  technical  testimony  about  violins  and 
violin  structure  naturally  bored  the  jury  almost  to 
extinction,  and  even  the  bitter  personal  encounters 
of  counsel  did  not  serve  to  relieve  the  dreariness  of 
the  trial.  One  oasis  of  humor  in  this  desert  of  dry 
evidence  gave  them  passing  refreshment,  when  a 
picturesque  witness  for  the  defense,  an  instrument 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

maker  named  Franz  Bruckner,  from  South  Ger- 
many, having  been  asked  if  the  violin  shown 
him  was  a  Strad.,  replied,  with  a  grunt  of 
disgust:  "Ach  Himmel,  nein!"  Being  then  in- 
vited to  describe  all  the  characteristics  of  genuine 
Stradivarius  workmanship,  he  tore  his  hair  and, 
with  an  expression  of  utter  hopelessness  upon 
his  wrinkled  face,  exclaimed  despairingly  to  the 
interpreter: 

"  Doctor,  if  I  gave  you  lessons  in  this  every  day 
for  three  weeks  you  would  know  no  more  than  you 
do  now!" — an  answer  which  was  probably  true, 
and  equally  so  of  the  jury  who  were  shouldered  with 
the  almost  impossible  task  of  determining  from 
this  mass  of  conflicting  opinion  just  where  the 
truth  really  lay. 

The  chief  witness  for  the  defense  was  John  J. 
Eller,  who  testified  that  he  had  been  a  musician 
for  thirty  years  and  a  collector  of  violins;  that  the 
violin  in  court  was  the  same  one  produced  before 
the  magistrate,  and  was  not  Bott's,  but  his  own; 
that  he  had  first  seen  it  in  the  possession  of  Charles 
Palm  in  1886  in  his  house  in  Eighth  Street  and  St. 
Mark's  Place,  New  York  City,  had  borrowed  it 
from  Palm  and  played  on  it  for  two  months  in  Sea- 
bright,  and  had  finally  purchased  it  from  Palm  in 
1891,  and  continued  to  play  in  concerts  upon  it, 
until  having  been  loaned  by  him  to  a  music  teacher 

90 


The  Lost  Stradivarius 

named  Perotti,  in  Twenty-third  Street,  it  was  stolen 
by  the  latter  and  sold  to  Flechter. 

It  appeared  that  Eller  had  at  once  brought  suit 
against  Flechter  for  the  possession  of  the  instru- 
ment, which  suit,  he  asserted,  he  was  still  pressing 
in  the  courts,  and  he  now  declared  that  the  violin 
was  in  exactly  the  same  condition  in  every  respect 
as  when  produced  in  the  police  court,  although  it 
had  been  changed  in  some  respects  since  it  had  been 
stolen.  It  had  originally  been  made  of  baked  wood 
by  oneDedier  Nicholas  (an  instrument  maker  of  the 
first  half  of  the  nineteenth  century),  and  stamped 
with  the  maker's  name,  but  this  inscription  was  now 
covered  by  a  Stradivarius  label.  Eller  scornfully 
pointed  out  that  no  Strad.  had  ever  been  made  of 
baked  wood,  and  showed  the  jury  certain  pegs 
used  by  no  other  maker  than  Nicholas,  and  certain 
marks  worn  upon  the  instrument  by  his,  the  wit- 
ness', own  playing.  He  also  exhibited  the  check 
with  which  he  had  paid  for  it. 

In  support  of  this  evidence  Charles  Palm  himself 
was  called  by  the  defense  and  identified  the  violin 
as  one  which  he  had  bought  some  twelve  years 
before  for  fifteen  or  twenty  dollars  and  later  sold 
to  Eller.  Upon  the  question  of  the  identity  of  the 
instrument  then  lying  before  the  jury  this  evidence 
was  conclusive,  but,  of  course,  it  did  not  satisfy  the 
jury  as  to  whether  Flechter  had  tried  to  sell  the 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Palm  violin  or  Bott's  violin  to  Durden.  Unfortu- 
nately Eller's  evidence  threw  a  side  light  on  the 
defence  without  which  the  trial  might  well  have 
resulted  in  an  acquittal. 

Eller  had  sworn  that  he  was  still  vigorously  en- 
deavoring to  get  the  Palm  violin  back  from  Flech- 
ter.  As  contradicting  him  in  this  respect,  and  as 
tending  to  show  that  the  suit  had  not  only  been 
compromised  but  that  he  and  Flechter  were  en- 
gaged in  trying  to  put  off  the  Palm  violin  as  a 
genuine  Stradivarius  and  share  the  profit  of  the 
fraud,  the  prosecution  introduced  the  following 
letter  from  the  witness  to  his  lawyer: 

CLIFTON  HOUSE,  CHICAGO,  ILLINOIS. 

March  23,  1896. 

Dear  Counsellor:  Received  your  letter  just  now.  I 
have  been  expecting  Mr.  Flechter's  lawyer  would  settle 
with  you;  he  got  nine  hundred  dollars  for  the  violin  and 
Mr.  Meyer  arranged  with  myself  for  the  half,  four  hun- 
dred and  fifty  dollars,  which  he  proposed  himself  and 
have  been  expecting  a  settlement  on  their  part  long  ago. 
I  have  assisted  Mr.  Palmer,  his  able  lawyer,  with  the 
best  of  my  ability,  and  have  covered  Mr.  Flechter  *s  short- 
comings of  faking  the  violin  to  a  Strad. 

Yours  most  sincerely, 

JOHN  ELLER, 
Metropolitan  Opera  Co.,  Chicago,  111. 

From  this  letter  it  was  fairly  inferable  that  al- 
though the  defendant  might  be  innocent  of  the 

92 


The  Lost  Stradivarius 

precise  crime  with  which  he  was  charged,  he  was, 
nevertheless,  upon  his  own  evidence,  guilty  of 
having  "faked"  a  cheap  Nicholas  violin  into  a 
Strad.,  and  of  having  offered  it  for  sale  for  the  ex- 
orbitant price  of  five  thousand  dollars.  This  luck- 
less piece  of  evidence  undoubtedly  influenced  the 
jury  to  convict  him. 

It  will  be  recalled  that  ten  witnesses  for  the  pros- 
ecution had  sworn  that  the  violin  offered  in  evi- 
dence at  the  trial  was  not  the  one  produced  in  the 
police  court,  as  against  the  defendant's  five  who 
asserted  that  it  was. 

The  testimony  was  all  highly  technical  and  con- 
fusing, and  the  jury  probably  relied  more  upon 
their  general  impressions  of  the  credibility  of  the 
witnesses  than  upon  anything  else.  It  is  likely  that 
most  of  the  testimony,  on  both  sides,  in  regard  to 
the  identity  of  the  violin  was  honestly  given,  for 
the  question  was  one  upon  which  a  genuine  diver- 
gence of  opinion  was  easily  possible. 

Filer's  letter  from  Chicago  so  affected  the  jury 
that  they  disregarded  his  testimony  and  reverted 
to  that  of  August  Gemunder,  to  whose  evidence 
attention  has  already  been  called,  and  who  swore 
that  it  was  "The  Duke  of  Cambridge"  which 
Flechter  had  tried  to  sell  to  Durden.  Alas  for  the 
fallibility  of  even  the  most  honest  of  witnesses ! 

The  case  was  ably  argued  by  both  sides,  and 
93 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

every  phase  of  this  curious  tangle  of  evidence 
given  its  due  consideration.  The  defense  very 
properly  laid  stress  upon  the  fact  that  it  would 
have  been  a  ridiculous  performance  for  Flechter 
to  write  the  "  Cave  Dweller"  letter  and  state  therein 
that  he  was  "  a  violin  dealer  or  maker/*  thus  point- 
ing, unmistakably,  to  himself,  and  to  further  state 
that  for  one  in  his  position  to  dispose  of  it  would 
be  difficult  and  dangerous.  The  only  explanation 
for  the  "Cave  Dweller"  letter  which  they  could 
offer,  however,  was  that  some  one  interested  in 
procuring  Flechter's  downfall  had  caused  it  to 
be  sent  for  that  purpose.  This  might  either  be 
a  business  rival  or  some  one  connected  with  the 
prosecution. 

While  Palmer  was  summing  up  for  the  defense 
he  noticed  Assistant  District  Attorney  Allen  smil- 
ing and  dramatically  turning  upon  him,  he  shouted: 
"This  is  no  laughing  matter,  Colonel  Allen.  It  is 
a  very  serious  matter  whether  this  man  is  to  be  al- 
lowed to-night  to  go  home  and  kiss  his  little  ones, 
or  whether  he  is  to  be  cast  into  jail  because  you 
used  your  brains  to  concoct  a  theory  against  him." 

Another  consideration,  which  seemed  deserv- 
ing of  weight,  was  that  if  Flechter  did  steal  "The 
Duke  of  Cambridge"  it  would  have  been  a  piece 
of  incredible  folly  and  carelessness  upon  his  part 
to  leave  it  in  such  an  exposed  place  as  the  safe  of 

94 


The  Lost  Stradivarius 

his  store,  where  it  could  be  found  by  the  police  or 
shown  by  the  office-boy  to  any  one  who  called. 

Yet  the  positive  identification  of  August  Ge- 
munder  and  the  fatal  disclosures  of  Eller,  coupled 
with  the  vehement  insistence  of  the  prosecution, 
led  the  jury  to  resolve  what  doubt  they  had  in  the 
case  against  the  prisoner,  and,  after  deliberating 
eight  or  ten  hours  and  being  out  all  night,  they  re- 
turned a  verdict  of  guilty.  Flechter  broke  down 
and  declared  bitterly  that  he  was  the  victim  of  a 
conspiracy  upon  the  part  of  his  enemies,  assisted 
by  a  too  credulous  prosecuting  attorney.  Every- 
body admitted  that  it  was  an  extraordinary  case, 
but  the  press  was  consistent  in  its  clamor  against 
Flechter,  and  opinion  generally  was  that  he  had 
been  rightly  convicted.  On  May  22nd  he  was  sen- 
tenced to  the  penitentiary  for  twelve  months,  but, 
after  being  incarcerated  in  the  Tombs  for  three 
weeks,  he  secured  a  certificate  of  reasonable  doubt 
and  a  stay  until  his  conviction  could  be  reviewed 
on  appeal.  Then  he  gave  bail  and  was  released. 
But  he  had  been  in  jail!  Flechter  will  never  forget 
that!  And,  for  the  time  being  at  least,  his  repu- 
tation was  gone,  his  family  disgraced,  and  his 
business  ruined. 

A  calm  reading  of  the  record  of  the  trial  suggests 
that  the  case  abounded  in  doubts  more  or  less  rea- 
sonable, and  that  the  Court  might  well  have  taken 

95 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

it  from  the  jury  on  that  account.  But  a  printed 
page  of  questions  and  answers  carries  with  it  no 
more  than  a  suggestion  of  the  value  of  testimony 
the  real  significance  of  which  lies  in  the  manner  in 
which  it  is  given,  the  tone  of  the  voice  and  the 
flash  of  the  eye. 

Once  again  Flechter  sat  at  his  desk  in  the  win- 
dow behind  the  great  gilded  fiddle.  To  him,  as  to 
its  owner,  the  great  Stradivarius  had  brought  only 
sorrow.  But  for  him  the  world  had  no  pity. 
Surely  the  strains  of  this  wonderful  instrument 
must  have  had  a  "dying  fall"  even  when  played 
by  the  loving  hand  of  old  Jean  Bott. 

At  last,  after  several  years,  in  1899,  the  case 
came  up  in  the  Appellate  Division  of  the  Supreme 
Court.  Flechter  had  been  led  to  believe  that  his 
conviction  would  undoubtedly  be  reversed  and  a 
new  trial  ordered,  which  would  be  tantamount  to 
an  acquittal,  for  it  was  hardly  likely  in  such  an 
event  that  a  second  trial  would  be  considered  ad- 
visable upon  the  same  evidence.  But  to  his  great 
disappointment  his  conviction  was  sustained  by  a 
divided  court,  in  which  only  two  of  the  five  justices 
voted  for  a  new  trial.  Again  Fortune  had  averted 
her  face.  If  only  one  more  judge  had  thought  the 
evidence  insufficient!  The  great  gilded  fiddle 
seemed  to  Flechter  an  omen  of  misfortune.  Once 
more  he  gave  bail,  this  time  in  five  thousand  dollars, 


The  Lost  Stradivarius 

and  was  set  at  liberty  pending  his  appeal  to  the 
highest  court  in  the  State.  Once  more  he  took  his 
seat  in  his  office  and  tried  to  carry  on  his  business. 

But  time  had  dragged  on.  People  had  forgotten 
all  about  Flechter  and  the  lost  Stradivarius,  and 
when  his  conviction  was  affirmed  little  notice  was 
taken  of  the  fact.  It  was  generally  assumed  that 
having  been  sentenced  he  was  in  jail. 

Then  something  happened  which  once  more 
dragged  Flechter  into  the  limelight.  Editors 
rushed  to  their  files  and  dusted  the  cobwebs  off  the 
issues  containing  the  accounts  of  the  trial.  The 
sign  of  the  gilded  fiddle  became  the  daily  centre  of 
a  throng  of  excited  musicians,  lawyers  and  report- 
ers. The  lost  Stradivarius — the  great  "Duke  of 
Cambridge" — the  nemesis  of  Bott  and  of  Flechter 
— was  found — by  Flechter  himself,  as  he  claimed, 
on  August  17,  1900.  According  to  the  dealer 
and  his  witnesses  the  amazing  discovery  occurred 
in  this  wise.  A  violin  maker  named  Joseph  Farr, 
who  at  one  time  had  worked  for  Flechter  and 
had  testified  in  his  behalf  at  the  trial  (to  the  effect 
that  the  instrument  produced  in  the  police  court 
was  not  Bott's  Stradivarius)  saw  by  chance  a  very 
fine  violin  in  the  possession  of  a  family  named 
Springer  in  Brooklyn,  and  notified  Flechter  of  the 
fact.  The  latter,  who  was  always  ready  to  purchase 
choice  violins,  after  vainly  trying  for  a  long  time 

97 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

to  induce  the  Springers  to  bring  it  to  New  York, 
called  with  Farr  upon  Mrs.  Springer  and  asked  to 
examine  it.  To  his  utter  astonishment  she  pro- 
duced for  his  inspection  Bott's  long-lost  Stradi- 
varius.  Hardiy  able  to  control  his  excitement 
Flechter  immediately  returned  to  New  York  and 
reported  the  discovery  to  the  police,  who  instantly 
began  a  thorough  examination  of  the  circumstances 
surrounding  its  discovery. 

The  District  Attorney's  office  and  the  Detective 
Bureau  were  at  first  highly  suspicious  of  this  op- 
portune discovery  on  the  part  of  a  convicted  felon 
of  the  precise  evidence  necessary  to  clear  him,  but 
it  was  soon  demonstrated  to  their  pretty  general 
satisfaction  that  the  famous  Stradivarius  had  in 
fact  been  pawned  in  the  shop  of  one  Benjamin  Fox 
on  the  very  day  and  within  an  hour  of  the  theft, 
together  with  its  case  and  two  bows,  for  the  insig- 
nificant sum  of  four  dollars.  After  the  legal  period 
of  redemption  had  expired  it  had  been  put  up  at 
auction  and  bid  in  by  the  pawnbroker  for  a  small 
advance  over  the  sum  for  which  it  had  been  pawned. 
It  lay  exposed  for  purchase  on  Fox's  shelf  for  some 
months,  until,  in  December,  1895,  a  tailor  named 
James  Dooly  visited  the  shop  to  redeem  a  silver 
watch.  Being,  at  the  same  time,  in  funds,  and 
able  to  satisfy  his  taste  as  a  virtuoso,  he  felt  the 
need  of  and  bought  a  violin  for  ten  dollars,  but, 


The  Lost  Stradivarius 

Fox  urging  upon  him  the  desirability  of  getting  a 
good  one  while  he  was  about  it,  was  finally  per- 
suaded to  purchase  the  Bott  violin  for  twenty  dol- 
lars in  its  stead.  Dooly  took  it  home,  played  upon 
it  as  the  spirit  moved,  and  whenever  in  need  of 
ready  money  brought  it  back  to  Fox  as  security, 
always  redeeming  it  in  time  to  prevent  its  sale. 
One  day,  being  at  Mrs.  Springer's,  where  he  was 
accustomed  to  purchase  tailor  trimmings,  he  of- 
fered it  to  her  for  sale,  and,  as  her  son  was  taking 
violin  lessons,  induced  her  to  buy  it  for  thirty  dol- 
lars. And  in  the  house  of  the  Springers  it  had 
quietly  remained  ever  since,  while  lawyers  and 
prosecutors  wrangled  and  thundered  and  witnesses 
swore  positively  to  the  truth,  the  whole  truth  and 
nothing  but  the  truth,  to  prove  that  Flechter  stole 
the  violin  and  tried  to  sell  it  to  Durden. 

On  these  facts,  which  did  not  seem  to  admit  of 
contradiction,  Recorder  Goff  ordered  an  oral  ex- 
amination of  all  the  witnesses,  the  hearing  of  which, 
sandwiched  in  between  the  current  trials  in  his 
court,  dragged  along  for  months,  but  which  finally 
resulted  in  establishing  to  the  Court's  satisfaction 
that  the  violin  discovered  in  the  possession  of  the 
Springers  was  the  genuine  "Duke  of  Cambridge," 
and  that  it  could  not  have  been  in  Flechter's  pos- 
session at  the  time  he  was  arrested. 

On  July  7,  1902,  eight  years  after  Bott's  death 
99 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

and  the  arrest  and  indictment  of  Flechter  for  the 
theft  of  the  violin,  a  picturesque  group  assembled 
in  the  General  Sessions.  There  was  Flechter  and 
his  lawyer,  Mrs.  Springer  and  her  son,  the  attor- 
neys for  the  prosecution,  and  lastly  old  Mrs.  Bott. 
The  seals  of  the  case  were  broken  and  the  violin 
identified  by  the  widow  as  that  of  her  husband. 
The  Springers  waived  all  claim  to  the  violin,  and 
the  Court  dismissed  the  indictment  against  the  de- 
fendant and  ordered  the  Stradivarius  to  be  deliv- 
ered to  Mrs.  Bott,  with  these  words: 

"  Mrs.  Bott,  it  affords  very  great  pleasure  to  the 
Court  to  give  the  violin  to  you.  You  have  suffered 
many  years  of  sorrow  and  trouble  in  regard  to  it." 

"  Eight  years,"  sighed  the  old  lady,  clasping  the 
violin  in  her  arms. 

"  I  wish  you  a  great  deal  of  pleasure  in  its  pos- 
session," continued  the  Recorder. 

Thus  ended,  as  a  matter  of  record,  the  case  of 
The  People  against  Flechter.  For  eight  years  the 
violin  dealer  and  his  family  had  endured  the  agony 
of  disgrace,  he  had  spent  a  fortune  in  his  defense, 
and  had  nevertheless  been  convicted  of  a  crime  of 
which  he  was  at  last  proved  innocent. 

Yet,  there  are  those  who,  when  the  case  is  men- 
tioned, shake  their  heads  wisely,  as  if  to  say  that 
the  whole  story  of  the  lost  Stradivarius  has  never 
been  told. 

100 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  WIRE- 
TAPPERS 


IV 

The  Last  of  the  Wire -Tappers 

"Sir,"  replied  the  knave  unabashed,  "I  am  one  of  those  who 
do  make  a  living  by  their  wits." 

TOHN  FELIX,  a  dealer  in  automatic  musical 
J  instruments  in  New  York  City,  was  swindled 
out  of  $50,000  on  February  ad,  1905,  by  what  is 
commonly  known  as  the  "wire-tapping"  game. 
During  the  previous  August  a  man  calling  himself 
by  the  name  of  Nelson  had  hired  Room  46,  in  a 
building  at  27  East  Twenty-second  Street,  as  a 
school  for  "wireless  telegraphy/'  Later  on  he  had 
installed  over  a  dozen  deal  tables,  each  fitted  with 
a  complete  set  of  ordinary  telegraph  instruments 
and  connected  with  wires  which,  while  apparently 
passing  out  of  the  windows,  in  reality  plunged  be- 
hind a  desk  into  a  small  "dry"  battery.  Each  ta- 
ble was  fitted  with  a  shaded  electric  drop-light,  and 
the  room  was  furnished  with  the  ordinary  para- 
phernalia of  a  telegraph  office.  The  janitor  never 
observed  any  activity  in  the  "school."  There 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

seemed  to  be  no  pupils,  and  no  one  haunted  the 
place  except  a  short,  ill-favored  person  who  ap- 
peared monthly  and  paid  the  rent. 

On  the  afternoon  of  February  ist,  1905,  Mr.  Felix 
was  called  to  the  telephone  of  his  store  and  asked 
to  make  an  appointment  later  in  the  afternoon, 
with  a  gentleman  named  Nelson  who  desired  to 
submit  to  him  a  business  proposition.  Fifteen 
minutes  afterward  Mr.  Nelson  arrived  in  person 
and  introduced  himself  as  having  met  Felix  at 
"Lou"  Ludlam's  gambling  house.  He  then  pro- 
duced a  copy  of  the  Evening  Telegram  which  con- 
tained an  article  to  the  effect  that  the  Western 
Union  Telegraph  Company  was  about  to  resume 
its  "pool-room  service," — that  is  to  say,  to  supply 
the  pool  rooms  with  the  telegraphic  returns  of  the 
various  horse-races  being  run  in  different  parts  of 
the  United  States.  The  paper  also  contained,  in 
connection  with  this  item  of  news,  a  photograph 
which  might,  by  a  stretch  of  the  imagination,  have 
been  taken  to  resemble  Nelson  himself. 

Mr.  Felix,  who  was  a  German  gentleman  of 
French  sympathies,  married  to  an  American  lady, 
had  recently  returned  to  America  after  a  ten  years* 
sojourn  in  Europe.  He  had  had  an  extensive  com- 
mercial career,  was  possessed  of  a  considerable 
fortune,  and  had  at  length  determined  to  settle  in 
New  York,  where  he  could  invest  his  money  to 

104 


The  Last  of  the  Wire-Tappers 

advantage  and  at  the  same  time  conduct  a  con- 
servative and  harmonious  business  in  musical 
instruments.  Like  the  Teutons  of  old,  dwelling 
among  the  forests  of  the  Elbe,  Mr.  Felix  knew  the 
fascination  of  games  of  chance  and  he  had  heard 
the  merry  song  of  the  wheel  at  both  Hambourg 
and  Monte  Carlo.  In  Europe  the  pleasures  of  the 
gaming  table  had  been  comparatively  inexpensive, 
but  in  New  York  for  some  unknown  reason  the 
fickle  goddess  had  not  favored  him  and  he  had  lost 
upward  of  $51,000.  "Zu  viel!"  as  he  himself  ex- 
pressed it.  Being  of  a  philosophic  disposition, 
however,  he  had  pocketed  his  losses  and  contented 
himself  with  the  consoling  thought  that,  whereas  he 
might  have  lost  all,  he  had  in  fact  lost  only  a  part. 
It  might  well  have  been  that  had  not  The  Tempter 
appeared  in  the  person  of  his  afternoon  visitor,  he 
would  have  remained  in  statu  quo  for  the  rest  of  his 
natural  life.  In  the  sunny  window  of  his  musical 
store,  surrounded  by  zitherns,  auto-harps,  dulci- 
mers, psalteries,  sackbuts,  and  other  instruments 
of  melody,  the  advent  of  Nelson  produced  the  effect 
of  a  sudden  and  unexpected  discord.  Felix  dis- 
trusted him  from  the  very  first. 

The  "proposition"  was  simplicity  itself.  It  ap- 
peared that  Mr.  Nelson  was  in  the  employ  of  the 
Western  Union  Telegraph  Company,  which  had 
just  opened  a  branch  office  for  racing  news  at  27 

105 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

East  Twenty-second  Street.  This  branch  was 
under  the  superintendence  of  an  old  associate  and 
intimate  friend  of  Nelson's  by  the  name  of  McPher- 
son.  Assuming  that  they  could  find  some  one  with 
the  requisite  amount  of  cash,  they  could  all  make 
their  everlasting  fortunes  by  simply  having  Mc- 
Pherson  withhold  the  news  of  some  race  from  the 
pool  rooms  long  enough  to  allow  one  of  the  others 
to  place  a  large  bet  upon  some  horse  which  had  in 
fact  already  won  and  was  resting  comfortably  in  the 
stable.  Felix  grasped  the  idea  instantly.  At  the 
same  time  he  had  his  suspicions  of  his  visitor.  It 
seemed  peculiar  that  he,  an  inconspicuous  citizen 
who  had  already  lost  $50,000  in  gambling  houses, 
should  be  selected  as  the  recipient  of  such  a  mo- 
mentous opportunity.  Moreover,  he  knew  very 
well  that  gentlemen  in  gambling  houses  were 
never  introduced  at  all.  He  thought  he  detected 
the  odor  of  a  rodent.  He  naively  inquired  why, 
if  all  these  things  were  so,  Nelson  and  his  friend 
were  not  already  yet  millionaires  two  or  three 
times  ?  The  answer  was  at  once  forthcoming 
that  they  had  been,  but  also  had  been  robbed— 
unmercifully  robbed,  by  one  in  whom  they  had 
had  confidence  and  to  whom  they  had  entrusted 
their  money. 

"And    now   we    are    poor,    penniless    clerks!" 
sighed  Nelson,  "  and  if  we  should  offer  to  make  a 

106 


The  Last  of  the  Wire-Tappers 

big  bet  ourselves,  the  gamblers  would  be  suspi- 
cious and  probably  refuse  to  place  it." 

"I  think  this  looks  like  a  schvindling  game," 
said  Felix  shrewdly.  So  it  did;  so  it  was. 

By  and  by  Felix  put  on  his  hat  and,  escorted  by 
Nelson,  paid  a  visit  to  the  "branch  office"  at  27 
East  Twenty-second  Street.  Where  once  solitude 
had  reigned  supreme  and  the  spider  had  spun  his 
web  amid  the  fast-gathering  dust,  all  was  now 
tumultuous  activity.  Fifteen  busy  operators  in 
eye  shades  and  shirt  sleeves  took  the  news  hot 
from  the  humming  wires  and  clicked  it  off  to  the 
waiting  pool  rooms. 

"Scarecrow  wins  by  a  neck!"  cried  one,  "  Black- 
bird second!" 

"Make  the  odds  5  to  3,"  shouted  a  short,  ill- 
favored  man,  who  sat  at  a  desk  puffing  a  large 
black  cigar.  The  place  buzzed  like  a  beehive  and 
ticked  like  a  clockmaker's.  It  had  an  atmosphere 
of  breathless  excitement  all  its  own.  Felix  watched 
and  marvelled,  wondering  if  dreams  came  true. 

The  short,  ill-favored  man  strolled  over  and  con- 
descended to  make  Mr.  Felix's  acquaintance.  An 
hour  later  the  three  of  them  were  closeted  among 
the  zitherns.  At  the  same  moment  the  fifteen 
operators  were  ranged  in  a  line  in  front  of  a  neigh- 
boring bar,  their  elbows  simultaneously  elevated 
at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees. 

107 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

• 

Felix  still  had  lingering  doubts.  Hadn't  Mr. 
McPherson  some  little  paper — a  letter,  a  bill,  a  re- 
ceipt or  a  check,  to  show  that  he  was  really  in  the 
employ  of  the  Western  Union  ?  No,  said  "Mac," 
but  he  had  something  better — the  badge  which  he 
had  received  as  the  fastest  operator  among  the 
company's  employees.  Felix  wanted  to  see  it,  but 
"Mac"  explained  that  it  was  locked  up  in  the 
vault  at  the  Farmers'  Loan  and  Trust  Co.  To 
Felix  this  had  a  safe  sound — "Farmers'  Trust 
Co."  Then  matters  began  to  move  rapidly.  It 
was  arranged  that  Felix  should  go  down  in  the 
morning  and  get  $50,000  from  his  bankers,  Selig- 
man  and  Meyer.  After  that  he  was  to  meet  Nelson 
at  the  store  and  go  with  him  to  the  pool  room  where 
the  big  financiers  played  their  money.  McPherson 
was  to  remain  at  the  "office"  and  telephone  them 
the  results  of  the  races  in  advance.  By  nightfall 
they  would  be  worth  half  a  million. 

"I  hope  you  have  a  good  large  safe,"  re- 
marked Nelson,  tentatively.  The  three  conspira- 
tors parted  with  mutual  expressions  of  confidence 
and  esteem. 

Next  morning  Mr.  Felix  went  to  his  bankers  and 
procured  $50,000  in  five  ten-thousand-dollar  bills. 
The  day  passed  very  slowly.  There  was  not  even 
a  flurry  in  zitherns.  He  waited  impatiently  for 
Nelson  who  was  to  come  at  five  o'clock.  At  last 

1 08 


The  Last  of  the  Wire-Tappers 

Nelson  arrived  and  they  hurried  to  the  Fifth 
Avenue  Hotel  where  the  coup  was  to  take  place. 

And  now  another  marvel.  Wassermann  Broth- 
ers' stock-brokering  office,  which  closes  at  three 
hummed  just  as  the  "office"  had  done  the  evening 
before — and  with  the  very  same  bees,  although 
Felix  did  not  recognize  them.  It  was  crowded 
with  men  who  struggled  violently  with  one  another 
in  their  eagerness  to  force  their  bets  into  the  hands 
of  a  benevolent-looking  person,  who,  Felix  was 
informed,  was  the  "trusted  cashier"  of  the  estab- 
lishment. And  the  sums  were  so  large  that  even 
Felix  gasped. 

"Make  that  $40,000  on  Coco!"  cried  a  bald- 
headed  "capper." 

"Mr.  Gates  wants  to  double  his  bet  on  Jack- 
stone, — make  it  $80,000!"  shrieked  another. 

"  Gentlemen !  Gentlemen ! "  begged  the  "  trusted 
cashier,"  "not  quite  so  fast,  if  you  please.  One  at 


a  time." 


"Sixty  thousand  on  Hesper — for  a  place!" 
bawled  one  addressed  as  "Mr.  Keene,"  while 
Messrs.  "Ryan,"  "Whitney,"  "Belmont,"  "Sulli- 
van," "McCarren,"  and  "Murphy"  all  made 
handsome  wagers. 

From  time  to  time  a  sporty-looking  man  stand- 
ing beside  a  ticker,  shouted  the  odds  and  read  off 
the  returns.  Felix  heard  with  straining  ears: 

109 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

"They're  off!*1 

"  Baby  leads  at  the  quarter." 

"Susan  is  gaining!" 

"They're  on  the  stretch!" 

"Satan  wins  by  a  nose — Peter  second." 

There  was  a  deafening  uproar,  hats  were  tossed 
ceilingward,  and  great  wads  of  money  were 
passed  out  by  the  "trusted  cashier"  to  indifferent 
millionaires.  Felix  wanted  to  rush  in  and  bet  at 
once  on  something — if  he  waited  it  might  be  too 
late.  Was  it  necessary  to  be  introduced  to  the 
cashier  ?  No  ?  Would  he  take  the  bet  ?  All  right, 
but— 

At  that  moment  a  page  elbowed  his  way  among 
the  money  calling  plaintively  for  "Felix!  Mr. 
Felix."  Shrinking  at  the  thought  of  such  publicity 
in  such  distinguished  company,  Felix  caught  the 
boy's  arm  and  learned  that  he  was  wanted  at  the 
telephone  booth  in  the  hotel. 

"It  must  be  'Mac/  said  Nelson.  "Now  don't 
make  any  mistake!"  Felix  promised  to  use  the 
utmost  care. 

It  was  "Mac." 

"Is  this  Mr.  Felix  ?— Yes  ?  Well,  be  very  care- 
ful  now.  I  am  going  to  give  you  the  result  of  the 
third  race  which  has  already  been  run.  I  will  hold 
back  the  news  three  minutes.  This  is  merely  to  see 
if  everything  is  working  right.  Don't  make  any 

no 


The  Last  of  the  Wire-Tappers 

bet.  If  I  give  you  the  winners  correctly,  you  can 
put  your  money  on  the  fourth  race.  The  horse 
that  won  the  last  is  Col.  Starbottle — Don  Juan  is 
second.  Now  just  step  back  and  see  if  I  am  right." 

Felix  rushed  back  to  the  pool  room.  As  he  en- 
tered the  man  at  the  tape  was  calling  out  that 
"they"  were  off.  In  due  course  "they"  reached 
the  quarter  and  then  the  half.  A  terrific  struggle 
was  in  progress  between  Col.  Starbottle  and  Don 
Juan.  First  one  was  ahead  and  then  the  other. 
Finally  they  came  thundering  down  to  the  stretch, 
Col.  Starbottle  winning  by  a  neck.  "Gates"  won 
$90,000,  and  several  others  pocketed  wads  run- 
ning anywhere  from  $20,000  to  $60,000. 

Felix  hurried  back  to  the  telephone.  "Mac" 
was  at  the  other  end. 

"Now  write  this  down,"  admonished  McPher- 
son;  "we  can't  afford  to  have  any  mistake.  Old 
Stone  has  just  won  the  fourth  race,  with  Cal- 
vert  second.  Play  Old  Stone  to  win  at  5  to  I. 
We  shall  make  $250,000 — and  Old  Stone  is 
safe  in  the  stable  all  the  time  and  his  jockey  is 
smoking  a  cigarette  on  the  club  house  veranda. 
Good  luck,  old  man." 

Felix  had  some  difficulty  in  getting  near  the 
"trusted  cashier"  so  many  financiers  were  betting 
on  Calvert.  Felix  smiled  to  himself.  He'd  show 
them  a  thing  or  two. 

in 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Finally  he  managed  to  push  his  envelope  con- 
taining the  five  ten-thousand-dollar  bills  into  the 
"trusted  cashier's"  hand.  The  latter  marked  it 
"Old  Stone,  5  to  I  to  win!"  and  thrust  it  into  his 
pocket.  Then  "Whitney"  or  somebody  bet 
$70,000  on  Calvert. 

"They're  off!"  shouted  the  man  at  the  tape. 

How  he  lived  while  they  tore  around  the 
course  Felix  never  knew.  Neck  and  neck  Old 
Stone  and  Calvert  passed  the  quarter,  the  half, 
and  the  three-quarter  post,  and  with  the  crowd 
yelling  like  demons  came  hurtling  down  the 
stretch. 

"Old  Stone  wins!"  cried  the  "booster"  at  the 
tape  in  a  voice  husky  with  excitement.  "  Calvert 
a  close  second!"  Felix  nearly  fainted.  His  head 
swam.  He  had  won  a  quarter  of  a  million.  Then 
the  voice  of  the  "booster"  made  itself  audible 
above  the  confusion. 

"What!  A  mistake?  Not  possible!— Yes.  Ow- 
ing to  some  confusion  at  the  finish,  both  jockies 
wearing  the  same  colors,  the  official  returns  now 
read  Calvert  first;  Old  Stone  second." 

Among  the  zitherns  Felix  sat  and  wondered  if 
he  had  been  schvindled.  He  had  not  returned  to 
Wassermann  Brothers.  Had  he  done  so  he  would 
have  found  it  empty  five  minutes  after  he  had  lost 

112 


The  Last  of  the  Wire-Tappers 

his  money.  The  millionaires  were  already  stream- 
ing hilariously  into  Sharkey's.  "Gates "-pledged 
"Belmont"  and  "Keene"  pledged  "Whitney." 
Each  had  earned  five  dollars  by  the  sweat  of  his 
brow.  The  glorious  army  of  wire-tappers  had  won 
another  victory  and  their  generals  had  consum- 
mated a  campaign  of  months.  Expenses  (roughly), 
$600.  Receipts,  $50,000.  Net  profits,  $48,400. 
Share  of  each,  $16,133. 

A  day  or  two  later  Felix  wandered  down  to 
Police  Headquarters,  and  in  the  Rogue's  Gallery 
identified  the  photograph  of  Nelson,  whom  he  then 
discovered  to  be  none  other  than  William  Crane, 
alias  John  Lawson,  alias  John  Larsen,  a  well- 
known  "wire-tapper,"  arrested  some  dozen  times 
within  a  year  or  two  for  similar  offences.  McPher- 
son  turned  out  to  be  Christopher  Tracy,  alias 
Charles  J.  Tracy,  alias  Charles  Tompkins,  alias 
Topping,  alias  Toppin,  etc.,  etc.,  arrested  some 
eight  or  ten  times  for  "wire-tapping."  The 
"trusted  cashier"  materialized  in  the  form  of  one 
Wyatt,  alias  Fred  Williams,  etc.,  a  "wire-tapper" 
and  pal  of  "Chappie"  Moran  and  "Larry"  Sum- 
merfield.  Detective  Sergeants  Fogarty  and  Mundy 
were  at  once  detailed  upon  the  case  and  arrested 
within  a  short  time  both  Nelson  and  McPherson. 
The  "trusted  cashier"  who  had  pocketed  Felix's 
$50,000  has  never  been  caught.  It  is  said  that  he 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

is  running  a  first-class  hostelry  in  a  Western  city. 
But  that  is  another  story. 

When  acting  Inspector  O'Brien  ordered  McPher- 
son  brought  into  his  private  room,  the  latter  un- 
hesitatingly admitted  that  the  three  of  them  had 
"trimmed"  Felix  of  his  $50,000,  exactly  as  the 
latter  had  alleged.  He  stated  that  Wyatt  (alias 
Williams)  was  the  one  who  had  taken  in  the  money, 
that  it  was  still  in  his  possession,  and  still  intact  in 
its  original  form.  He  denied,  however,  any  knowl- 
edge of  Wyatt's  whereabouts. 

The  reason  for  this  indifference  became  appar- 
ent when  the  two  prisoners  were  arraigned  in  the 
magistrate's  court,  and  their  counsel  demanded 
their  instant  discharge  on  the  ground  that  they 
had  committed  no  crime  for  which  they  could  be 
prosecuted.  He  cited  an  old  New  York  case, 
McCord  vs.  The  People,*  which  seemed  in  a 
general  way  to  sustain  his  contention,  and  which 
had  been  followed  by  another  and  much  more 
recent  decision.  The  People  vs.  Livings  ton. f 
The  first  of  these  cases  had  gone  to  the  Court 
of  Appeals,  and  the  general  doctrine  had  been 
annunciated  that  where  a  person  parts  with  his 
money  for  an  unlawful  or  dishonest  purpose, 
even  though  he  is  tricked  into  so  doing  by  false 

*  46  New  York  470. 
1 47  App.  Div.  283. 

114 


The  Last  of  the  Wire-Tappers 

pretences,  a  prosecution  for  the  crime  of  larceny 
cannot  be  maintained. 

In  the  McCord  case,  the  defendant  had  falsely 
pretended  to  the  complainant,  a  man  named 
Miller,  that  he  was  a  police  officer  and  held  a  war- 
rant for  his  arrest.  By  these  means  he  had  induced 
Miller  to  give  him  a  gold  watch  and  a  diamond 
ring  as  the  price  of  his  liberty.  The  conviction  in 
this  case  was  reversed  on  the  ground  that  Miller 
parted  with  his  property  for  an  unlawful  purpose; 
but  there  was  a  very  strong  dissenting  opinion  from 
Mr.  Justice  Peckham,  now  a  member  of  the  bench 
of  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States. 

In  the  second  case,  that  of  Livingston,  the  com- 
plainant had  been  defrauded  out  of  $500  by  means 
of  the  "green  goods"  game;  but  this  conviction  was 
reversed  by  the  Appellate  Division  of  the  Second 
Department  on  the  authority  of  the  McCord  case. 
The  opinion  in  this  case  was  written  by  Mr.  Jus- 
tice Cullen,  now  Chief  Judge  of  the  New  York 
Court  of  Appeals,  who  says  in  conclusion: 

"We  very  much  regret  being  compelled  to  re- 
verse this  conviction.  Even  if  the  prosecutor  in- 
tended to  deal  in  counterfeit  money,  that  is  no  rea- 
son why  the  appellant  should  go  unwhipped  of 
justice.  We  venture  to  suggest  that  it  might  be 
well  for  the  Legislature  to  alter  the  rule  laid  down 
in  McCord  vs.  People." 

"5 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Well  might  the  judges  regret  being  compelled  to 
set  a  rogue  at  liberty  simply  because  he  had  been 
ingenious  enough  to  invent  a  fraud  (very  likely 
with  the  assistance  of  a  shyster  lawyer)  which  in- 
volved the  additional  turpitude  of  seducing  an- 
other into  a  criminal  conspiracy.  Livingston  was 
turned  loose  upon  the  community  in  spite  of  the 
fact  that  he  had  swindled  a  man  out  of  $500  be- 
cause he  had  incidentally  led  the  latter  to  believe 
that  in  return  he  was  to  receive  counterfeit  money 
or  "green  goods,"  which  might  be  put  into  circu- 
lation. Yet,  because  some  years  before,  the  Judges 
of  the  Court  of  Appeals  had,  in  the  McCord  mat- 
ter, adopted  the  rule  followed  in  civil  cases,  to  wit 
that  as  the  complaining  witness  was  himself  in 
fault  and  did  not  come  into  court  with  clean  hands 
he  could  have  no  standing  before  them,  the  Appel- 
late Division  in  the  next  case  felt  obliged  to  follow 
them  and  to  rule  tantamount  to  saying  that  two 
wrongs  could  make  a  right  and  two  knaves  one 
honest  man.  It  may  seem  a  trifle  unfair  to  put  it 
in  just  this  way,  but  when  one  realizes  the  iniquity 
of  such  a  doctrine  as  applied  to  criminal  cases,  it 
is  hard  to  speak  softly.  Thus  the  broad  and  gen- 
eral doctrine  seemed  to  be  established  that  so  long 
as  a  thief  could  induce  his  victim  to  believe  that  it 
was  to  his  advantage  to  enter  into  a  dishonest 
transaction,  he  might  defraud  him  to  any  extent  in 

116 


The  Last  of  the  Wire-Tappers 

his  power.  Immediately  there  sprang  into  being 
hordes  of  swindlers,  who,  aided  by  adroit  shyster 
lawyers,  invented  all  sorts  of  schemes  which  in- 
volved some  sort  cf  dishonesty  upon  the  part  of 
the  person  to  be  defrauded.  The  "wire-tappers," 
of  whom  "Larry"  Summerfield  was  the  Napo- 
leon, the  "gold-brick"  and  "green-goods"  men, 
and  the  "sick  engineers"  flocked  to  New  York, 
which,  under  the  unwitting  protection  of  the  Court 
of  Appeals,  became  a  veritable  Mecca  for  persons 
of  their  ilk. 

To  readers  unfamiliar  with  the  cast  of  mind  of 
professional  criminals  it  will  be  almost  impossible 
to  appreciate  with  what  bold  insouciance  these 
vultures  now  hovered  over  the  metropolitan  barn- 
yard. Had  not  the  Court  of  Appeals  itself  recog- 
nized their  profession  ?  They  had  nothing  to  fear. 
The  law  was  on  their  side.  They  walked  the 
streets  flaunting  their  immunity  in  the  very  face  of 
the  police.  "Wire-tapping"  became  an  industry, 
a  legalized  industry  with  which  the  authorities 
might  interfere  at  their  peril.  Indeed,  there  is  one 
instance  in  which  a  "wire-tapper"  successfully 
prosecuted  his  victim  (after  he  had  trimmed  him) 
upon  a  charge  of  grand  larceny  arising  out  of  the 
same  transaction.  One  crook  bred  another  every 
time  he  made  a  victim,  and  the  disease  of  crime, 
the  most  infectious  of  all  distempers,  ate  its  way 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

unchecked  into  the  body  politic.  Broadway  was 
thronged  by  a  prosperous  gentry,  the  aristocracy 
and  elite  of  knavery,  who  dressed  resplendently, 
flourished  like  the  green  bay-tree,  and  spent  their 
(or  rather  their  victims')  money  with  the  lavish 
hand  of  one  of  Dumas's  gentlemen. 

But  the  evil  did  not  stop  there.  Seeing  that 
their  brothers  prospered  in  New  York,  and  neither 
being  learned  in  the  law  nor  gifted  with  the  power 
of  nice  discrimination  between  rogueries,  all  the 
other  knaves  in  the  country  took  it  for  granted  that 
they  had  at  last  found  the  Elysian  fields  and  came 
trooping  here  by  hundreds  to  ply  their  various 
trades.  The  McCord  case  stood  out  like  a  caba- 
listic sign  upon  a  gate-post  telling  all  the  rascals 
who  passed  that  way  that  the  city  was  full  of  hon- 
est folk  waiting  to  be  turned  into  rogues  and 
"trimmed." 


"  And  presently  we  did  pass  a  narrow  lane,  and  at  the 
mouth  espied  a  written  stone,  telling  beggars  by  a  word 
like  a  wee  pitchfork  to  go  that  way." 

The  tip  went  abroad  that  the  city  was  "good 
graft"  for  everybody,  and  in  the  train  of  the  "wire- 
tappers"  thronged  the  "flimflammer,"  "confi- 
dence man,"  "booster,"  "capper"  and  every  sort 
of  affiliated  crook,  recalling  Charles  Reade's  ac- 

118 


The  Last  of  the  Wire-Tappers 

count  in  "The  Cloister  and  the  Hearth"  of  Gerard 
in  Lorraine  among  their  kin  of  another  period : 

With  them  and  all  they  had,  'twas  lightly  come  and 
lightly  go;  and  when  we  left  them  my  master  said  to  me, 
"This  is  thy  first  lesson,  but  to-night  we  shall  be  at 
Hansburgh.  Come  with  me  to  the  'rotboss'  there,  and 
I'll  show  thee  all  our  folk  and  their  lays,  and  especially 
'the  lossners/  'the  dutzers,'  'the  schleppers/  'the  gic- 
kisses/  'the  schwanfelders/  whom  in  England  we  call 
'shivering  Jemmies/  'the  siintregers,'  'the  schwiegers,' 
'the  joners,'  'the  sessel-degers,'  'the  gennscherers,'  in 
France  'marcandiers  a  rifodes,'  'the  veranerins/  'the 
stabulers,"  with  a  few  foreigners  like  ourselves,  such  as 
'pietres/  'francmitoux/  'polissons,'  'malingreux/  'trat- 
ers,'  'rufHers/  'whipjacks,'  'dommerars,'  'glymmerars/ 
'jarkmen,'  'patricos,'  'swadders/  'autem  morts/ 'walk- 
ing morts/ — "  "Enow!"  cried  I,  stopping  him,  "art  as 
gleesome  as  the  evil  one  a  counting  of  his  imps.  I'll  jot 
down  in  my  tablet  all  these  caitiffs  and  their  accursed 
names:  for  knowledge  is  knowledge.  But  go  among 
them  alive  or  dead,  that  will  I  not  with  my  good  will." 

And  a  large  part  of  it  was  due  simply  to  the  fact 
that  seven  learned  men  upon  seven  comfortable 
chairs  in  the  city  of  Albany  had  said,  many  years 
ago,  that  "neither  the  law  or  public  policy  designs 
the  protection  of  rogues  in  their  dealings  with  each 
other,  or  to  insure  fair  dealing  and  truthfulness  as 
between  each  other,  in  their  dishonest  practices.5* 

The  reason  that  the  "wire-tapping"  game  was 
supposed  to  come  within  the  scope  of  the  McCord 

119 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

case  was  this :  it  deluded  the  victim  into  the  belief 
that  he  was  going  to  cheat  the  pool  room  by  placing 
a  bet  upon  a  "sure  thing."  Secondarily  it  in- 
volved, as  the  dupe  supposed,  the  theft  or  disclos- 
ure of  messages  which  were  being  transmitted 
over  the  lines  of  a  telegraph  company — a  misde- 
meanor. Hence,  it  was  argued,  the  victim  was  as 
much  a  thief  as  the  proposer  of  the  scheme,  had 
parted  with  his  money  for  a  dishonest  purpose,  did 
not  come  into  court  with  "clean  hands,"  and  no 
prosecution  could  be  sustained,  no  matter  whether 
he  had  been  led  to  give  up  his  money  by  means  of 
false  pretences  or  not. 

While  "wire-tapping"  differed  technically  from 
the  precise  frauds  committed  by  McCord  and  Liv- 
ingston, it  nevertheless  closely  resembled  those 
swindlers  in  general  character  and  came  clearly 
within  the  doctrine  that  the  law  was  not  designed 
to  protect  "rogues  in  their  dealings  with  each 
other." 

No  genuine  attempt  had  ever  been  made  to 
prosecute  one  of  these  gentry  until  the  catastrophe 
which  deprived  Felix  of  his  $50,000.  The  "wire- 
tappers"  rolled  in  money.  Indeed,  the  fraternity 
were  so  liberal  with  their  "rolls"  that  they  became 
friendly  with  certain  police  officials  and  intimately 
affiliated  with  various  politicians  of  influence,  a 
friend  of  one  of  whom  went  onSummerfield's  bond, 

120 


The  Last  of  the  Wire-Tappers 

when  the  latter  was  being  prosecuted  for  the 
"sick-engineer"  frauds  to  the  extent  of  $30,000. 
They  regularly  went  to  Europe  in  the  summer 
season  and  could  be  seen  at  all  the  race-courses 
and  gambling  resorts  of  the  Continent.  It  is  amus- 
ing to  chronicle  in  this  connection  that  just  prior  to 
McPherson's  arrest — that  is  to  say  during  the 
summer  vacation  of  1904 — he  crossed  the  Atlantic 
on  the  same  steamer  with  an  assistant  district  at- 
torney of  New  York  county,  who  failed  to  recog- 
nize his  ship  companion  and  found  him  an 
entertaining  and  agreeable  comrade. 

The  trial  came  on  before  Judge  Warren  W.  Fos- 
ter in  Part  3  of  the  General  Sessions  on  February 
27th,  1906.  A  special  panel  quickly  supplied  a  jury, 
which,  after  hearing  the  evidence,  returned  in  short 
order  a  verdict  of  guilty.  As  Judge  Foster  believed 
the  McCord  case  to  be  still  the  law  of  the  State,  he, 
of  his  own  motion,  and  with  commendable  inde- 
pendence, immediately  arrested  judgment.  The 
People  thereupon  appealed,  the  Court  of  Appeals 
sustained  Judge  Foster,  and  the  defendant  was  dis- 
charged. It  is,  however,  satisfactory  to  record  that 
the  Legislature  at  its  next  session  amended  the 
penal  code  in  such  a  way  as  to  entirely  deprive  the 
wire-tappers  and  their  kind  of  the  erstwhile  pro- 
tection which  they  had  enjoyed  under  the  law. 


121 


CONFIDENCE  MEN  ABROAD 


Confidence  Men  Abroad 

ONCE  in  a  generation,  sometimes  oftener,  a 
picturesque  outlaw  may  by  his  audacity, 
his  ingenuity  or  his  wit  awaken  a  throb  of  sym- 
pathy or  of  good-will  in  the  hearts  of  even  the 
sternest  censors  of  private  morals.  From  the  days 
of  Robin  Hood  there  has  usually  been  some  nim- 
ble-witted  adventurer  on  hand  ready  to  challenge 
the  public  attention  by  his  daring  and  tickle  its 
sense  of  humor  by  his  escapades.  The  type  has 
become  permanent  in  fiction,  and  our  children  are 
being  brought  up,  in  spite  of  us,  upon  the  exciting 
experiences  of  all  kinds  of  outrageous  desperadoes 
who  invariably  at  bottom  have  most  of  the  warm- 
blooded virtues.  At  the  end  of  the  novel  these 
heroes  are  usually  brought  to  see  the  error  of  their 
ways  and  retire  into  innocuous  desuetude  to  fa- 
miliarize themselves  with  the  Westminster  Cate- 
chism and  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer.  In  real 
life  the  outlaw,  however  generous  and  well-mean- 
ing he  may  be  at  heart,  usually  pays  the  penalty 

125 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

of  his  lawlessness  in  the  work-house,  even  if  he  be 
fortunate  enough  to  escape  State's  prison. 

This  memoir  is  an  appendix  or  supplementary 
chapter  to  the  familiar  adventures  of  a  group  of 
men  who,  under  the  pseudonym  of  "wire-tappers," 
for  many  months  occupied  the  police  columns  of 
the  daily  press.  In  particular  it  relates  to  the  cap- 
tain of  the  band — a  man  qualified  by  his  natural 
gifts  to  play  a  leading  part  in  any  drama  of  life  in 
which  it  might  have  pleased  Fate  to  cast  him. 
Discretion,  good  taste,  and  also,  it  must  be  con- 
fessed, a  personal  promise  not  to  do  so,  prevents 
the  writer  from  disclosing  his  name  or  that  of  his 
trusty  lieutenant  by  whom  the  incident  was  related; 
let  it  be  enough  to  state  that  the  "Jerry"  of  the 
present  narrative  is  the  prince  of  confidence  men — 
as  good-natured  and  generous  a  crook  as  ever 
tossed  off  a  high-ball  or  handed  a  "yellowback"  to 
a  comrade  on  his  uppers,  a  criminal  who  became  a 
criminal  because  in  these  prosaic  days  his  thirst 
for  adventurous  excitement  could  only  be  gratified 
through  "  living  by  his  wits,"  and  who  to-day  hon- 
estly believes  that  he  has  never  committed  an 
offence  forbidden  by  law  or  cheated  any  man  that 
did  not  deserve  to  be  robbed. 

After  this  modern  Little  John  had  been  con- 
victed and  sentenced  to  six  years  in  State's  prison 
and  had  been  released  on  bail  on  a  certificate  of 

126 


Confidence  Men  Abroad 

reasonable  doubt  pending  his  appeal,  he  promptly 
worked  the  same  old  game  on  an  unsuspecting 
Southern  colonel  and  was  rearrested.  His  bail 
was  this  time  increased  to  thirty  thousand  dollars. 
During  his  temporary  release  " Jerry"  started 
over  to  Pontin's  restaurant  for  lunch  and  sat  down 
at  a  table  occupied  by  the  Assistant  District  Attor- 
ney who  had  prosecuted  him. 

"How  are  you,  Mr. ?"  inquired  he. 

"Oh,  hallo,  'Jerry,'"  returned  the  prosecutor. 
"How's  business?" 

"Pretty  good,"  replied  "Jerry";  "you  know 
there's  a  sucker  born  every  minute." 

"I  should  think  that  after  your  conviction  you'd 
have  sense  enough  to  keep  out  of  swindling  for  a 
while,"  continued  the  Assistant. 

" Jerry"  looked  indignantly  at  him.  "Swind- 
lin'!"  he  exclaimed;  "swindlin'  nothin'!  My  law- 
yer says  I  didn't  commit  any  crime.  Didn't  a 
Supreme  Court  Justice  say  there  was  a  reasonable 
doubt  in  my  case  ?  Well,  I've  just  given  myself 
the  benefit  of  it,  that's  all." 

The  Assistant  was  and  is  now  unable  to  stifle  a 
feeling  approaching  regard  for  this  frank  and 
good-natured  rascal. 

"Jerry"  and  his  crew  worked  the  States  north 
and  south;  they  knew  the  patrons  and  cuisine  of 
every  fashionable  hotel  upon  the  seaboard;  and 

127 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

they  were  ready  at  a  moment's  notice  to  hand  the 
"come-on"  any  kind  of  a  "con"  or  trim  him  in 
any  one  of  a  hundred  ways,  from  three-card 
monte  down  to  the  "lemon"  or  the  "sick-engi- 
neer" game. 

It  was  in  the  latter  enterprise  that  they  met  their 
Waterloo.  For  those  of  my  readers  who  are  un- 
familiar with  this  simple  device  let  it  be  explained 
that  at  least  three  persons  are  essential  to  its  ac- 
complishment. A  mining  office  with  appropriate 
paraphernalia  is  secured,  which  one  of  the  con- 
spirators, arrayed  in  purple  and  fine  linen,  occu- 
pies daily  as  "  president  of  the  company."  Maps 
and  diagrams  upon  the  walls  exhibit  the  location 
of  the  mine  and  its  various  stages  of  development. 
A  "sure  thing"  advertisement  is  inserted  in  the 
personal  column  of  some  newspaper,  inviting  any 
one  who  wants  to  double  his  money  to  communi- 
cate by  letter  with  A.  B.  When  such  a  letter  is 
received  another  of  the  gang  visits  the  victim  and 
tactfully  informs  him  that  he  has  a  brother  who  is 
employed  as  overseer  at  the  "So-and-So"  mine, 
and  that  the  latter  has  notified  him  confidentially 
that  the  stock  has  greatly  increased  in  value  owing 
to  a  recent  rich  strike,  of  which  no  one  is  aware 
except  the  officers  of  the  company  and  himself. 
The  visitor  then  states  that  he  knows  of  an  ex- 
engineer  of  the  mine  who  is  "  sick,"  usually  with 

128 


Confidence  Men  Abroad 

sciatica,  at  a  hotel  in  the  city,  and  who,  ignorant 
of  what  has  happened,  may  perhaps  be  persuaded 
to  sell  his  stock  (received  for  services  at  the  mine) 
for  a  small  part  of  its  present  actual  value.  The 
victim  thinks,  quite  wisely,  that  he  would  like 
to  see  how  much  the  officers  of  the  company  will 
agree  to  pay  for  the  stock  before  he  tries  to  buy  it. 
He  is  encouraged  to  do  so  and  goes  down  to  the 
office.  There  the  "president"  offers  to  buy  all  the 
shares  he  will  bring  in  at  ten  dollars  each.  The 
victim  hurries  to  the  hotel,  finds  the  sick  man,  and 
persuades  him  to  sell  about  a  thousand  shares  of 
stock  in  valueless  certificates  for  five  thousand  dol- 
lars. When  he  hastens  back  to  reap  his  ill-gotten 
harvest  the  mining  office  is  permanently  closed. 

As  "Jerry"  and  "Jim"  said,  "The  sucker  de- 
served to  be  stung."  Well,  perhaps  he  did,  but, 
by  the  same  token,  "Jerry"  and  "Jim"  and  their 
pals  deserved  to  be  in  jail — where  they  all  went. 
The  gang  lived  on  the  fat  of  the  land  and  "earned" 
in  this  simple  way  about  twenty-five  thousand 
dollars  in  five  or  six  weeks.  Then  they  were  all 
arrested,  save  "Jim,"  and  including  "Jerry." 
Pending  their  trials,  and  while  they  were  out  on 
bail,  these  light-hearted  pirates  had  the  audacity 
to  go  to  Paris  to  enjoy  the  spoils  of  their  campaign, 
and  to  get  more  money  in  the  same  fashion  to  fight 
their  prosecutions. 

129 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Here  they  met  their  most  celebrated  victim,  Mr. 
Charles  P.  Buchanan.  Ignatius  L.  Qualey,  later 
sent  to  the  penitentiary,  remained  to  manage  the 
New  York  end  of  the  business.  Frank  S.  Weller, 
who  has  but  recently  been  discharged  from  Sing 
Sing,  stayed  to  assist  him  and  look  after  the  pending 
cases.  "Jim"  was  already  abroad  "making  book" 
at  Goodwood,  whence  he  crossed  to  Paris  to  join 
"Jerry,"  "Baker  Tom,"  Putnam,  Carbonel  and 
"Colonel  Colmy"  on  the  Continent. 

At  Longchamps  "Colonel  Colmy"  met  Mr.  Bu- 
chanan, and  introduced  "Jim"  to  him  as  a  young 
millionaire  mine-owner  who  just  had  money  to 
burn.  Then  "Jerry,"  ostensibly  a  total  stranger 
to  all  parties,  turned  up  and  told  Buchanan  how 
he  had  a  brother,  etc.,  etc.;  that  the  millionaire 
had  a  lot  of  "Horseshoe  Gold  Mining"  stock 
which  would  bring  under  present  conditions 
twenty  dollars  per  share,  and  that  perhaps  he  could 
be  induced,  if  properly  "worked"  to  sell  for  five 
dollars.  Buchanan  thought  he  saw  a  good  thing, 
and  cabled  to  New  York  to  see  what  the  company 
would  pay.  Qualey  and  Weller,  in  the  World 
Building,  offered  him  fifteen  dollars  per  share  for 
not  less  than  eight  thousand  shares.  "Jim"  had 
just  that  amount  of  stock,  but  he  frankly  told 
Buchanan  that  he  thought  it  was  a  poor  invest- 
ment. But  Buchanan  knew  better  and  guessed 

130 


Confidence  Men  Abroad 

he'd  risk  it,  and  he  insisted  on  giving  "Jim"  two 
hundred  thousand  francs  and  taking  the  certifi- 
cates. Even  before  the  steamer,  which  took  him 
back  to  New  York,  had  docked  he  began  to  sus- 
pect that  he  had  been  duped.  The  mining  office 
was  closed.  Qualey  and  Weller  had  vanished. 
But  Buchanan  was  game  and  he  cabled  back  to 
France,  and  had  everybody  tracked  down,  arrested 
and  brought  to  Paris.  They  were  tried,  defended 
by  Maltre  Labori,  and  acquitted.  Then  they  all  re- 
turned to  America  to  stand  trial  in  New  York,  and, 
much  to  their  astonishment,  were  convicted  for  their 
offences  here.  Qualey,  Weller,  Putnam,  Carbonel, 
"Colonel  Colmy,"  "Jim"  and  "Jerry"  all  went 
to  prison,  served  their  time  and  were  discharged. 
Five  years  elapsed  and  "Jim"  was  picked  up  on  an 
old  warrant  on  Broadway.  The  case  against  him 
had  died  of  old  age,  and  the  writer,  after  a  week  or 
so,  had  him  brought  into  court  and  moved  for  his 
discharge,  which  was  granted  after  an  admonitory 
lecture  from  the  Court. 

"Come  up  to  my  office,  Jim,"  said  I;  "I  want 
to  know  how  you  managed  to  beat  it  over  in 
Paris." 

"Sure  thing,"  answered  Jim.  "You've  done 
me  a  good  turn  and  I'll  tell  you  everything  I 
know." 

So  the  cigars  were  brought  out — the  "good" 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

ones — a  stenographer  was  called  in,  and  Jim 
lea'ned  back  and  sailed  ahead. 

"  I  know  you're  on  the  level,"  he  began,  lighting 
a  Carolina  Invincible  and  running  the  fingers  of 
his  left  hand  through  his  rather  sparse  grayish- 
black  hair,  "  and  that  there  won't  be  no  come-back. 
I'm  a  free  man,  ain't  I  ?  We're  quits,  now,  and 
I'm  on  the  right  side  of  the  law.  And  Jerry's  out 
—the  finest  feller  God  ever  made — you  take  that 
from  me  straight.  The  best  friend  I  ever  had. 
Don't  use  our  names  and  I'll  tell  you  a  true  story 
that  beats  'Innocents  Abroad,'  and  that's  fair  to 
good,  as  you  know.  It  was  after  we  had  trimmed 
Buchanan."  He  took  a  pull  on  his  cigar. 

"  Well,"  he  continued, "  there  we  was  after  havin' 
pulled  ofF  the  slickest  'con'  game  on  record,  with 
two  hundred  thousand  francs  in  our  jeans,  all 
ready  to  cultivate  the  delights  of  Paris,  and 
obliged  to  scoot  for  the  tall  grass.  We  was  settin' 
at  one  of  them  little  iron  tables  out  in  front  of  the 
Hotel  Continental,  thinkin'  it  over,  when  the  por- 
ter, the  swell  guy  in  the  blue  uniform  and  gold  lace 
that  stands  on  the  front  stoop — he  was  a  particular 
friend  of  mine,  by  reason  of  a  little  side  tip  I  had 
gave  him  on  a  horse  that  was  going  to  be  pulled 
the  week  before — comes  up  and  says:  'M'sieu* 
Chames,  there  is  gendarmes  looking  for  you  in  the 
foyer  of  the  hotel.  It  is  some  mistake,  of  course, 


Confidence  Men  Abroad 

but' — and  he  stuck  out  his  hands  palms  up  as  if 
he  was  tryin'  to  tell  whether  it  was  rainin'.  I  seen 
he  was  giving  me  the  '  office '  (which  is  what  we  call 
the  signal  to  beat  it),  and  without  more  adoo  me 
and  Jerry  slips  around  the  back  way,  jumps  in 
a  voytoore  and  slides  down  to  an  American  bar  run 
by  McCafferty,  a  friend  of  mine,  on  the  Roo 
Antoine. 

"We  was  both  feelin'  pretty  cocky,  because  we 
knew  we  hadn't  done  nothin',  and  had  dough 
enough  besides  to  square  any  court  in  Paris,  and 
it  was  this  feelin'  too  good  that  made  us  so  much 
trouble,  for  I  told  my  friend,  the  bar-keep,  to  send 
up  to  the  Hotel  Continental  after  we  was  gone  and 
look  out  for  my  trunk,  as  I  had  a  particular  fine 
pair  of  field-glasses,  some  pearl  shirt-studs  and 
lingerie  in  that  trunk  that  I  didn't  want  to  lose. 
So  we  took  a  drink,  and  I  says  to  Jerry: 

" '  What  are  we  going  to  do  ? '  Jerry  thought 
a  while,  as  he  always  does  before  he  expresses  an 
opinion  on  anything  important,  which  is  why  he 
never  goes  wrong,  and  says: 

"'We  must  fly  the  coop,  temporary,  for  a  more 
salubrious  clime,'  he  says.  '  I  don't  want  to  go 
far,'  he  says,  '  but  I  think  one  of  them  little  mud 
baths  where  the  professors  go  would  be  about  our 
size.' 

'"You're  on!'  I  says;   'when  shall  we  start?' 
133 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

"As  soon  as  I  can  get  my  trunk/  he  says. 

"'Sure  thing,'  I  says,  for  I  knew  that  Jerry  had 
just  blown  in  fourteen  hundred  francs  the  day  be- 
fore on  the  finest  line  of  silk  pajamas  and  under- 
garments you  ever  seen — pink  and  blue  and  other 
colors,  good  enough  for  anybody.  And  he  had 
just  got  in  from  his  tailor  nine  suits  of  clothes  and 
about  twenty  pairs  of  little  pointed  French  boots, 
that  if  it  wasn't  for  his  black  hair  would  make  him 
look  for  all  the  world  like  Count  Boni  de  Castel- 
lane.  Well,  we  went  around  to  Jerry's  place  and 
got  his  trunk  and  took  it  down  to  the  Gare  Laza- 
rus, and  hired  a  first-class  compartment  all  to  our- 
selves for  Spa,  where  we  arrived  in  due  course  and 
put  up  at  a  little  hotel  with  fretsaw  work  all  around 
the  verandas.  The  board  was  all  right,  too,  but 
what  pained  us  was  the  fact  that  there  wasn't  a 
thing  to  do  in  the  place.  It  was  a  little  bit  of  a 
hole  down  among  some  mountains,  and  hot  as 
Forty-second  Street  and  Broadway  on  the  Fourth 
of  July,  and  the  town  was  all  full  of  German  doc- 
tors and  queer-lookin'  Hey  Rubes  who  had  come 
there  for  their  health.  There  wasn't  a  card-game 
or  wheel  turnin'  in  town,  and  no  one  in  the  place 
knew  a  hoss  from  a  hand  fire-engine. 

"Jerry  thought  we  ought  to  have  somethin' 
for  a  disguise,  but  it  was  so  hot  I  hated  to  put  on 
any  false  hair  around  my  face,  and  the  only  thing 


Confidence  Men  Abroad 

left  was  to  pretend  we  was  two  Dutch  professors — 
which  we  did  the  best  we  was  able. 

"  Have  you  ever  been  to  a  mud  bath  ?  Well,  say, 
it  has  got  the  Great  Salt  Lake  whipped  to  a  frazzle. 
At  the  lake  you  can  sit  in  the  water  all  right  and 
float  around  like  you  was  in  an  easy-chair.  But  in 
the  mud  bath  it  is  like  a  lot  of  turtles.  You  sail 
around  with  your  head  stickin'  out,  and  if  you 
want  a  high-ball  or  a  glass  of  Budweiser  they  shove 
it  out  to  you  on  a  saucer,  so  that  the  whole  place 
looks  as  if  each  Dutchman  had  hatched  out  his 
own  particular  litter  of  china  ducks.  We  used  to 
sit  in  that  place  two  or  three  hours  a  day,  and  it 
was  enough  to  make  you  split  your  sides  laughin' 
to  hear  Jerry  guy  the  old  roosters  in  there.  He 
would  call  'em  all  kinds  of  names,  which  they 
couldn't  understand,  but  would  know  they  was  be- 
in'  insulted.  Yet  they  couldn't  do  nothin'  about 
it.  And  it  made  'em  mad  to  see  us  drinkin'  high- 
balls and  crackin'  jokes  at  their  expense,  when 
they  had  to  sit  there  to  get  cured  of  the  rheuma- 
tism. 

"  Then  we  would  come  out  and  listen  to  the  band 
play  in  the  park,  and  have  lunch,  and  after  that 
there  was  nothin'  to  do  but  to  go  up  to  the  room 
and  throw  cold  hands  till  dinner-time.  It  was 
pretty  slow,  but  it  was  better  than  bein'  locked 
up  in  some  French  jail,  and  although  we  was 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

gettin'  pretty  bored  we  could  have  stood  it  a  while 
longer. 

"Well,  one  day  when  we  was  floatin'  around  in 
the  mud  bath  as  usual  the  door  opened  and  the 
porter  came  rushing  in,  followed  by  about  five  hun- 
dred gendarmes.  Gee!  you  would  have  thought  it 
was  a  military  parade.  The  porter  pointed  to 
where  we  was  floatin'  around  readin'  La  Fie 
Parisienne,  and  the  commandant  of  the  gendarmes 
yelled  to  us  to  come  out.  We  pretended  not  to 
hear,  and  they  stood  jabberin'  at  one  another, 
wonderin'  how  to  get  us  out  without  spoilin'  their 
uniforms.  But  Jerry  kept  right  on  readin'  and 
smokin'  a  cigarette  and  made  out  he  thought  they 
wanted  to  arrest  an  old  German  professor  on  the 
other  side  of  the  bath.  The  upshot  of  it  was  that 
I  saw  they  would  take  it  out  of  us  hard  if  we  didn't 
come  ashore,  so  after  about  half  an  hour  we  sur- 
rendered, and  they  locked  us  up  in  a  guard-house 
overnight. 

"  Now  who  should  turn  out  to  be  at  the  bottom  of 
it  but  Charlie  Buchanan's  cousin — a  no-good  sort 
of  a  fellow  called  Willie.  After  dinner,  which  so 
far  as  we  was  concerned  had  been  nothin'  at  all,  in 
comes  this  Willie  in  the  guard-house  smokin'  a  large 
cigar,  and  settin'  down  at  a  safe  distance  begins  to 
give  us  the  'con'  of  how  sorry  he  was  to  see  two 
respectable  citizens  in  such  an  awkward  position. 

136 


Confidence  Men  Abroad 

"'Well/  I  says,  'our  positions  ain't  one-three- 
six  to  what  yours  would  be  if  we  was  outside  this 
guard-house,  and  you  was  anywheres  but  on  the 
top  of  the  tallest  tree  in  the  place/ 

"Well,  he  says,  there  was  no  use  gettin'  irritated 
about  it;  that  we  was  up  against  it,  but  that  his 
cousin  was  inclined  to  be  merciful,  and  that  he  was 
all  sorts  of  a  good  fellow  himself,  and  that  if  we 
would  slip  him  what  was  left  of  the  two  hundred 
thousand  francs  he  would  fix  it  so  that  we  could 
sleep  at  the  hotel  and  go  on  our  way  rejoicin'.  I 
s'pose  all  is  fair  in  love  and  law. 

"  Jerry  give  him  one  look  as  if  to  ask  what  kind 
of  a  pair  of  'come-ons*  he  thought  we  was,  and 
when  the  feller  began  to  put  on  a  little  more  side 
I  made  a  move  as  if  I  was  goin'  to  throw  him  out 
of  the  window.  That  was  enough  for  Willie. 

"Well,  we  had  a  bad  night  of  it,  for  they 
shackled  us  up  with  our  ankles  and  hands  to- 
gether, and  from  that  time  on  we  never  made  a 
move  except  in  these  double  chains. 

"  Next  morning  they  had  a  sort  of  an  informal 
hearing,  where  Willie  appeared  against  us,  and 
Jerry  threw  a  great  chest  about  being  an  Ameri- 
can citizen,  and  how  the  outrages  committed  upon 
us  would  result  in  international  complications,  and 
so  forth  and  so  on;  so  that  you  would  have  thought 
that  he  was  nothin'  less  than  John  D.  Rockefeller, 

137 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

to  say  the  least.  But  it  didn't  do  any  good,  and 
they  shipped  us  off  to  a  little  place  called  Verviers, 
where  there  is  a  military  prison,  and  locked  us  up. 

"As  soon  as  the  gendarmes  discovered  that  we 
had  our  rolls  with  us  they  became  very  friendly, 
and  as  long  as  we  had  the  price  we  had  all  the 
comforts  of  home.  From  there  we  was  sent  to  a 
place  called  Laige.  Here  they  brought  us  before 
the  Supreme  Court,  or  whatever  it  is,  for  extradi- 
tion back  to  Paris.  Now,  as  I  said  before,  so  long 
as  you  have  cash  in  France  you  are  all  right,  and 
we  had  what  was  left  of  the  two  hundred  thou- 
sand francs,  which  was  the  best  part  of  it,  for 
there  wasn't  much  to  spend  money  on  at  a  mud 
bath. 

"Well,  it  cost  each  of  us  fourteen  dollars  for 
every  day  we  was  in  prison  at  Verviers  and  Laige. 
We  had  four  meals  a  day,  and  a  seven-course  din- 
ner in  the  evening  which  would  have  made  a 
twenty-dollar  blow-out  at  Rector's  look  like  thirty 
cents;  and  then  about  eleven  or  twelve  at  night 
again  we  had  a  light  supper  and  all  the  Havana 
cigars  we  wanted — at  sixty  cents  apiece. 

"Whenever  we  travelled  we  went  with  what 
they  call  a  convoy  extraordinary.  It  was  '  extraor- 
dinary,' all  right.  They  had  eight  or  ten  gen- 
darmes for  fear  we  should  climb  out  of  the  win- 
dows while  the  train  was  goin'  at  sixty  miles  an 

138 


Confidence  Men  Abroad 

hour.  And  we  had  to  pay  the  convoy's  fare  as 
well  as  our  own,  and  for  all  their  meals,  and  if 
they  didn't  get  all  the  wines  and  cigars  that  was 
comin'  to  'em  they  wanted  to  know  the  reason 
why.  Some  of  those  fellers  could  be  very  particu- 
lar. Well,  they  had  the  drop  on  us,  and  while  we 
had  plenty  of  money  we  didn't  mind  such  an 
awful  lot.  Whenever  we  needed  it  I  had  the  money 
telegraphed  on  to  us  through  my  Paris  lawyer, 
Maitre  Labori,  who,  I  may  say,  on  passong,  is  the 
best  and  cheapest  lawyer  I  ever  had  anywhere. 

"Well,  it  was  necessary  to  get  local  counsel,  so 
at  Verviers  I  retained  a  Belgian  named  Alphonse 
Hannotte.  He  looked  like  a  perfessor  and  talked 
like  a  water  bottler  in  a  restaurant.  But  the  thing 
he  was  strong  on  was  the  price.  If  he  walked  the 
length  of  the  room  it  was  a  hundred  francs,  and  if 
he  walked  back  again  it  was  a  hundred  francs 
more.  In  the  end  it  would  have  been  a  great  deal 
cheaper  to  give  all  the  money  to  the  captain  of 
the  gendarmes,  because  as  it  was  as  soon  as  it  got 
dark  he  used  to  take  off  our  chains  and  let  us  go 
out,  and  all  it  cost  us  was  fifty  francs  a  day. 

"After  a  while  they  shipped  us  from  Laige  to 
Brussels,  where  the  extradition  proceedings  was 
to  be  held.  We  had  come  on  in  the  usual  way  with 
our  convoy  extraordinary,  and  as  soon  as  we  ar- 
rived we  was  taken  to  the  Palais  de  Justice.  Now, 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

after  we  had  left  Laige  brother  Hannotte  had  gone 
back  to  Verviers  with  the  understanding  that  he 
should  appear  for  us  in  Brussels.  Maitre  Labori 
had  been  working  on  the  case  all  the  time  down  in 
Paris,  and  he  had  fixed  it  up  so  that  the  Minister 
of  Justice  should  order  us  sent  on  at  once  with  an- 
other convoy  extraordinary  to  France — otherwise 
it  would  have  taken  us  about  two  years  to  get 
away,  which  is  the  ordinary  time  to  secure  extra- 
dition between  two  Continental  countries. 

"Well,  Hannotte  had  all  our  papers  which  we 
had  had  sent  him  from  America  to  prove  our  good 
citizenship,  and  how  respectable  we  was,  and  what 
hard-working  men,  and  members  of  the  church, 
and  so  on  and  so  forth,  and  you  would  have  thought 
we  was  a  pair  of  deacons  at  a  Friday  evening 
prayer  meetin'.  But  inasmuch  as  he  had  gone 
back  to  Verviers  he  was  not  on  to  the  fact  that  the 
day  before  we  started  for  Brussels,  at  the  instruc- 
tion of  Maitre  Labori,  we  had  waived  extradition 
at  Laige. 

"  When  we  got  into  the  Palais  de  Justice  we  was 
stood  up  before  the  judges,  which  was  seven  in  all, 
dressed  in  black  gowns.  We  had  hired  a  school- 
master to  interpret  the  language  to  us,  and  tell  us 
what  was  goin'  on,  and  this  schoolmaster  was  al- 
ways sayin'  how  the  official  interpreter  was  tellin' 
everythin'  wrong;  and  then  we  would  object,  and 

140  , 


Confidence  Men  Abroad 

the  Court  would  want  to  find  out  what  we  were 
objectin'  about,  which  all  took  a  long  time.  Finally 
it  was  all  cleared  up,  and  we  said  we  was  willin*  to 
waive  extradition  and  go  back  voluntary  to  stand 
our  trials.  Then  the  Chief  Judge  signed  his  name 
to  the  papers  and  they  were  all  goin'  out  to  get  a 
drink,  when  all  of  a  sudden  brother  Hannotte 
rides  up  on  a  bicycle,  dressed  in  knickerbockers 
and  golf  stockings,  with  a  long  black  gown  floatin' 
out  behind  and  a  square  cap  with  a  tassel  on  it, 
and  rushin'  into  the  tribunal  of  justice  just  as  they 
were  goin'  to  adjourn,  jumped  up  behind  the  bar 
and  commenced  to  harangue  the  Court  to  beat  the 
band.  If  we  had  not  been  chained  up  we  would 
have  made  some  sort  of  move  to  stop  him;  and 
the  schoolmaster  got  very  much  excited  and  told 
us  that  Hannotte  had  got  everything  mixed  up, 
and  said  we  would  die  rather  than  go  back  to 
France.  Then  the  schoolmaster  butted  in  and  told 
the  Court  that  Hannotte  was  all  wrong,  and  Han- 
notte got  very  angry  and  wanted  to  know  who  in 
hell  the  schoolmaster  was.  And  it  looked  like  it 
was  going  to  be  a  cat  fight.  Then  it  came  out  that 
Hannotte  had  ridden  on  his  bicycle  all  the  way 
from  Verviers  to  Brussels  in  order  to  save  carfare, 
with  his  robes  tied  on  to  the  bicycle,  and  with  his 
little  college  cap  on  the  back  of  his  head.  And 
being  as  the  judges  all  had  some  sense  of  humor, 

141 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

they  began  to  laugh,  and  the  Chief  Judge,  after  he 
had  straightened  out  his  face,  said: 

"Mr.  Hannotte,  these  gentlemen  have  volun- 
tarily offered  to  return  to  France  and  have  waived 
their  extradition  rights.' 

"Then  Hannotte  got  very  much  excited,  and 
said,  'Oui,  out,'  that  it  was  news  to  him.  And  all 
of  a  sudden  the  court  was  adjourned. 

"Well,  Hannotte  was  mad  and  hot  and  reck- 
oned he  would  ride  back  with  us  on  the  train,  but 
Jerry  thought  he  had  had  about  enough  of  him,  and 
told  him  he  guessed  he  could  go  back  the  way  he 
came — on  his  bicycle.  Hannotte  was  very  much 
offended  and  said  that  he  had  been  insulted,  and 
that  if  we  were  not  miserable  convicts  he  would 
demand  satisfaction.  Then  Jerry  said  it  was 
lucky  for  him  all  right  that  we  were  chained  up, 
and  for  him  please  to  give  us  back  our  private  pa- 
pers which  belonged  to  us.  But  the  perfessor  said 
that  he  had  a  lien  on  'em  for  twenty-five  thousand 
francs  which  we  still  owed  him;  that  we  had  never 
paid  him  anything,  and  that  his  services  were 
really  worth  fifty  thousand. 

"Gee!  When  he  said  that  I  thought  Jerry 
would  go  wild;  for  the  perfessor  had  been  chargin' 
us  about  five  hundred  francs  a  minute  and  wanted 
cash  for  everythin',  and  we  had  never  got  any  re- 
ceipt from  him.  Well,  when  Jerry  gets  his  dan- 

142 


Confidence  Men  Abroad 

der  up  you  want  to  stand  from  under,  and  in  about 
twenty  minutes  he  had  scared  to  a  pulp  Counsellor 
Hannotte  and  had  threatened  to  impeach  him  and 
have  him  disbarred,  and  arrested  for  larceny,  and 
had  hired  another  lawyer.  The  upshot  of  it  was  that 
Hannotte  was  glad  enough  to  get  on  his  bicycle  and 
ride  back  home  again. 

"Well,  in  a  few  days  word  came  to  send  us  im- 
mediately with  a  convoy  extraordinary  on  a  special 
train  into  France.  Labori  telegraphed  us  on  the 
money,  and  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  next 
day  they  put  on  our  chains  and  walked  us  over  to 
our  special  train,  consisting  of  an  engine  and  two 
cars,  which  we  had  paid  for  in  order  to  go  forty 
miles  to  the  nearest  town  across  the  border.  We 
were  so  dangerous  that  in  spite  of  our  chains  we  had 
to  take  twelve  gendarmes  with  us  and  feed  'em 
besides,  including  beer.  And  the  way  those  fellows 
ate  is  worth  a  trip  to  Coney  Island. 

"At  about  twelve  o'clock  we  arrived  at  a  place 
called  Givet,  and  being  it  was  the  anniversary  of  the 
Fall  of  the  Bastille,  which  is  the  Fourth  of  July  in 
France,  the  whole  town  was  closed  up,  and  there 
was  no  one  there  to  take  charge  of  us.  The  con- 
voy extraordinary  telephoned  and  telegraphed  all 
over,  but  the  telephone  girls  had  gone  off  to  Sulz- 
berger's  annual  picnic,  and  the  Telegraphers' 
Union  was  on  a  trip  to  Dreamland. 

H3 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

"After  a  while  the  convoy  got  tired  of  seein'  us 
round,  and  anyhow  they  wanted  to  go  back  to 
Brussels,  so  they  chucked  Jerry's  trunk  on  the 
platform  and  told  us  to  pick  it  up.  Now  Jerry 
had  been  'specially  particular  about  havin'  that 
trunk  go  everywhere  with  us-  because  he  didn't 
want  to  lose  his  silk  lingerie,  yet  he  hadn't  figured 
on  bein'  a  'ham  fattener.'  But  the  gendarmes 
were  gettin'  ugly,  and  one  of  them  stuck  Jerry  in 
the  leg  with  his  bayonet,  so  we  had  to  pick  the 
trunk  up  and  start  down  the  road  a  mile  to  the 
banks  of  the  River  Meuse,  where  there  was  a  road- 
house  and  summer  garden.  They  drove  us  around 
back  of  the  barn  to  a  hen-house,  and  told  us  to  get 
inside  of  it. 

"It  was  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  and  the 
hottest  day  I  can  remember,  and  because  it  was  a 
holiday,  I  guess,  all  the  hens  had  gone  inside  the 
house  and  were  settin'  on  poles  under  the  roof. 
Well,  we  had  to  sit  under  the  hens  from  two  until 
four  while  the  convoy  extraordinary  got  drunk  on 
our  money.  By  and  by  they  came  back  to  the 
hen-house  and  called  us  out  and  began  to  have  fun 
beatin'  us.  They  thought  it  was  the  greatest  joke 
you  ever  seen  to  stick  us  in  the  leg  with  a  three- 
cornered  bayonet. 

"A  little  after  four,  while  we  were  dancin* 
around  like  Apache  prisoners,  four  gendarmes 

144 


Confidence  Men  Abroad 

from  the  little  village  called  Femme  appeared  and 
gave  a  receipt  for  us.  Femme  was  only  six  miles 
away,  and  Jerry  and  I  picked  up  the  trunk  and 
started  off  again. 

"Now,  mind,  my  right  ankle  was  chained  to 
Jerry's  right  ankle,  and  my  left  ankle  to  his  left 
ankle,  and  in  addition  to  that  we  was  chained  to 
the  trunk,  which  weighed  about  two  hundred 
pounds.  When  I  saw  we  had  got  to  lug  that  Sara- 
toga six  miles  I  suggested  to  Jerry  to  take  out 
some  of  his  shoes,  but  he  seemed  to  think  that  in- 
asmuch as  we  had  lugged  them  a  mile  already  and 
they  had  cost  so  much,  we  might  as  well  carry 
them  a  little  farther.  So  we  pounded  along  and  at 
about  6:30  in  the  evening  arrived  at  our  destination. 

"  It  was  a  big  fete  day  and  the  whole  town  and  all 
the  people  was  as  drunk  as  lords,  including  the 
high  military  mug  of  the  place  who  was  known  as 
the  Commissioner-at-Large.  Well,  he  was  'at 
large'  all  right  when  we  got  there,  and,  what  was 
more,  he  could  speak  English.  He  was  just  in  the 
state  to  work  a  '  con '  game  on,  and  Jerry  started 
in  right  off  to  tell  the  old  Commissioner  how  we 
were  victims  of  a  horrible  mistake.  He  took  the 
old  chap  aside  and  explained  to  him  that  I  was  a 
millionaire  worth  between  eighty  and  ninety  mil- 
lion dollars,  and  how  there  would  probably  be  a 
war  between  the  United  States  and  France,  because 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

I  had  been  arrested  at  all.  But  the  most  particular 
grievance  he  had  at  the  moment  was  that  we  had 
not  been  sent  right  through  to  Paris  on  a  '  special/ 

"Well,  the  Commissioner  took  it  all  in,  and  said 
it  was  an  outrage,  and  at  once  hurried  off  to  the 
telegraph  station  to  order  a  special  train  for  us. 
Just  then  one  of  the  gendarmes  butted  in  and  said 
that  we  had  only  sixty-five  francs  between  us.  But 
Jerry  perked  right  up  and  said  that  all  the  Com- 
missioner need  do  would  be  to  telegraph  to  our 
banker  Monseer  McCafferte,  in  Paris,  and  he 
would  send  us  all  the  money  we  needed.  So  the 
Commissioner  went  off  and  paid  for  the  telegram 
and  then  ordered  a  banquet  served  in  the  court- 
yard of  the  gendarmerie.  It  was  the  finest  thing 
you  ever  seen  in  your  life.  All  the  officers  were 
invited  and  we  had  twelve  quarts  of  wine,  besides 
ten  courses  to  eat.  We  offered  to  pay  for  it,  but 
the  Commissioner  would  not  hear  of  it. 

"'  Gentlemen,'  says  he,  drinking  off  a  big 
bumper  of  fizz,  'you  are  the  guests  of  France  to- 
day; you  are  the  guests  of  the  Army  of  France — • 
votre  sante'.' 

"Well,  we  were  not  going  to  be  backward  in 
coming  forward,  so  we  asked  all  the  soldiers  in 
and  ordered  two  more  cases  of  wine  for  them,  and 
because  we  were  feeling  pretty  good  we  gave 
the  sixty-five  francs  to  a  gendarme,  and  sent  him 


Confidence  Men  Abroad 

out  to  buy  some  fireworks.  Then  we  told  the 
gendarmes  to  go  and  get  their  children,  and  by 
nine  o'clock  the  place  was  so  full  of  kids  you 
couldn't  step  without  treading  on  two  or  three 
of 'em. 

"Well,  the  Commissioner  thought  sure  we  was 
millionaires  when  he  seen  the  pin  wheels  and  Ro- 
man candles,  and  he  and  his  officers  sat  at  a  table 
while  Jerry  and  I  went  a  couple  of  hundred  feet 
off  and  began  to  do  the  Keralfrey  act.  The  chil- 
dren thought  we  was  the  greatest  things  they  ever 
seen,  and  for  about  thirty  minutes  we  forgot  where 
we  was  and  how  we  come  there,  lookin'  at  the  kids 
watch  the  pin  wheels.  Jerry  was  standin'  with  a 
little  pin-wheel  about  the  size  of  a  rosette  they  stick 
in  a  horse's  ear,  and  havin'  as  much  fun  with  it  all 
by  himself  as  if  he  was  drivin'  a  sixty-horse-power 
motor-car,  and  I  was  shootin'  off  a  candle  when  the 
next  thing  I  knew  somebody  hit  me  in  the  back  of 
the  neck  with  the  butt  of  a  rifle  and  picked  me  up 
and  lugged  me  off  about  fifty  feet  to  where  there 
was  a  little  round  iron  door  in  the  stone  wall,  like 
the  door  of  a  furnace,  and  threw  me  in  like  a 
shovelful  of  coal. 

"Well,  I  landed  about  two  feet  below  the  level 
of  the  ground  on  top  of  Jerry,  and  my  hands  and 
feet  went  into  muck  that  must  have  been  three 
inches  deep.  It  was  pitch  black  in  there,  and  when 

147 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Jerry  started  to  groan  I  thought  sure  everything 
was  up,  but  finally  we  got  on  our  feet  and  found 
we  had  no  bones  broken,  but  we  couldn't  make 
out  what  was  the  matter. 

"Well,  about  an  hour  later,  a  gendarme  un- 
bolted the  furnace  door  and  said  '  VoilaJ  and 
poked  in  a  telegram.  Jerry  lit  a  match  and  read  it: 

Johnny  at  the  races.  Frank  paralyzed.  Rest  of  the 
boys  out  driving.  Have  got  no  money  belonging  to  you. 

McCAFFERTY. 

"That  was  the  dispatch. 
:<What  does  this  mean  ?'  I  says. 

"  Jerry  was  cursin'  around  all  to  himself,  but  he 
stopped  long  enough  to  say,  'Why,  it  means  just 
this,  that  as  no  money  has  come  the  old  chap  thinks 
we've  been  buncoin'  him  all  the  afternoon,  and  he 
is  simply  gettin'  even/ 

"We  stood  up  there  all  night  with  the  muck  up 
to  our  ankles,  and  about  four  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
in'  they  opened  the  door  again  and  pulled  us  out. 
They  wouldn't  even  give  us  a  chance  to  wash.  If 
you  could  have  seen  Jerry's  face,  you  would  have 
had  to  laugh,  for  it  was  all  covered  with  green 
muck,  and  so  were  his  clothes.  It  was  all  over  mine 
too.  They  chained  us  up  to  the  trunk  again  and 
started  us  off  before  daylight. 

"When  the  sun  came  up  I  saw  that  we  were 
148 


Confidence  Men  Abroad 

climbing  straight  up  a  mountain.  The  gendarmes 
said  that  we  were  on  the  way  to  the  town  of  Fen- 
veul  and  that  it  would  take  us  all  day  to  walk  there, 
for  although  it  was  only  five  miles  it  was  straight 
up  and  down,  so  that  if  you  looked  back  you 
would  fall  into  another  department. 

"France  is  all  cut  up  into  little  checker-board 
squares  called  departments,  and  every  department 
is  like  a  police  precinct  in  New  York  City,  with  its 
own  captain  and  officers,  and  they  pass  you  along 
from  one  department  to  another. 

"Well,  I  thought  I  should  have  died  climbing 
up  that  hill  carryin'  Jerry's  trunk  full  of  silk 
underwear.  Every  time  we  sat  down  the  gen- 
darmes would  prod  us  with  their  bayonets  and 
make  us  get  up  again,  and  if  either  of  us  cracked 
a  joke  it  was  a  breach  of  discipline,  and  they  would 
give  us  a  clip  with  their  muskets.  I  never  spent 
such  a  day  in  my  life  as  luggin'  that  trunk  up  the 
side  of  that  mountain.  Say,  did  you  ever  see  the 
'Ham  Tree?'  Well,  it  was  just  like  that  play. 
There  is  a  place  in  the  '  Ham  Tree '  where  two  nig- 
gers come  on  the  stage  carryin'  a  trunk,  and  one 
nigger  says  to  the  other  nigger,  'I  wish  I  was  in 
that  place  again, — I  would  never  go  back  again.' 
Well,  Jerry  got  thinkin'  of  the  '  Ham  Tree/  and 
about  once  every  hundred  yards  he  would  get  off 
this  joke  about  the  niggers  and  the  trunk.  And 

149 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

although  I  was  near  dead  I  got  to  laughing  so  I 
could  hardly  walk. 

"That  night  we  reached  the  top  of  the  moun- 
tain, and  we  didn't  suffer  much  from  sleeplessness, 
I  can  tell  you. 

"  Next  morning  they  changed  our  guard  to  a 
mountain  convoy  and  started  us  on  up  another 
mountain.  We  did  that  for  five  days,  and  Jerry's 
trunk  got  a  hundred  pounds  heavier  each  day. 

"  By  the  end  of  the  week  we  had  climbed  to  a 
tiny  little  town  on  the  top  of  a  mountain,  that  has 
a  moat  running  all  around  it,  which  is  an  old  re- 
ceiving prison  called  Roc  Roy.  It  is  a  great  old 
place,  and  if  it  could  be  shipped  down  to  Coney, 
or  some  fellow  could  imitate  it,  it  would  be  a  great 
card  as  a  mediaeval  restaurant.  You  have  got  to 
drop  a  drawbridge  down  to  go  across  the  moat, 
and  when  once  you  get  inside  there's  no  way  to  get 
out. 

"  The  first  thing  I  saw  when  we  went  in  the  gate 
was  a  great  big  letter  addressed  to  us  sticking  in  a 
crack  over  where  the  soldier  stands  at  the  door, 
and  we  knew  at  once  that  it  was  the  letter  and  the 
money  which  ought  to  have  been  sent  to  the  Com- 
missioner-at-Large,  at  Femme,  but  which  could 
not  be  because  the  boys  were  out  driving.  Well, 
it  was  full  of  all  kinds  of  apologies,  and  told  how 
sorry  McCafFerty  was  that  he  couldn't  raise  the 


Confidence  Men  Abroad 

money  we  wanted,  being  as  it  was  the  day  of  the 
Fall  of  the  Bastille,  but  sayin'  that  he  guessed 
everythin'  would  be  all  right,  anyway.  Well,  I 
wish  McCafferty  had  been  carryin'  that  trunk  the 
way  we  had  for  five  days  and  he  would  have  seen 
how  much  good  apologies  could  do. 

"  That  night  we  were  stuck  in  a  dormitory  with 
about  four  hundred  prisoners,  and  although  the 
town  was  about  five  thousand  feet  up  that  dormi- 
tory was  the  hottest  place  I  ever  got  into.  We 
were  so  tired  we  couldn't  sleep,  and  we  kept  all 
the  other  prisoners  awake  talkin*.  Finally,  they 
gave  up  tryin'  to  sleep,  and  got  to  talkin'  them- 
selves. One  of  them  told  how  he  was  a  robber. 

c '  What  kind  of  a  robber  ? '  I  says.  '  How  much 
of  a  sentence  did  you  get  ? '  I  says. 

' '  Eight  months/  he  says. 

"What  kind  of  a  sentence  is  that  for  rob- 
bery ?'  I  says.  'What  did  you  do  ?' 

"I  stole  a  ride  on  a  freight  train,'  he  says. 

"Another  fellow  said  he  was  a  smuggler,  and  he 
had  eight  months.  He  had  been  caught  with  two 
little  packages  of  tobacco  walking  across  from 
Belgium. 

"The  fellow  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  dormi- 
tory allowed  he  was  a  thief.  He  had  been  caught 
in  a  turnip-field  eating  a  turnip.  Well,  we  had  to 
laugh. 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

"Next  day  Jerry  and  I  was  put  in  a  workshop 
and  taught  how  to  make  shoes.  It  takes  about 
three  days  to  make  a  pair  of  shoes,  and  the  shoes 
are  sold  for  five  sous  a  pair.  The  authorities  don't 
allow  the  prisoners  any  coffee  unless  they  pay  for 
it,  and  the  coffee  costs  one  sou  a  day  each,  so  that 
between  us  we  could  just  about  earn  coffee  money, 
and  Jerry  got  so  mad  at  the  old  shoes  he  could 
hardly  see.  When  he  sassed  the  head  keeper  they 
yanked  him  out  into  the  court-yard,  where  there 
was  a  big  stream  of  water  falling  down,  about  four 
or  five  inches  through,  and  stuck  him  under  it,  and 
in  about  ten  minutes  he  was  begging  to  be  allowed 
to  go  to  work  again. 

"Well,  at  the  end  of  two  weeks  an  order  came 
from  the  Minister  of  Justice  to  the  Procurator- 
General  of  the  City  of  Roc  Roy,  directing  him  to 
forward  us  along  with  another  special  convoy  at 
our  own  expense,  and  a  couple  of  days  later  we 
landed  in  Paris. 

11  You  know  all  about  the  trial  already,  and  how 
the  Judge  said  we  hadn't  committed  any  crime, 
and  ordered  our  immediate  discharge.  But  I'll 
tell  you  one  thing,  I  wouldn't  carry  that  trunk 
again  half  a  mile  if  you  would  give  me  two  hun- 
dred thousand  francs." 

He  smiled  and  dusted  off  his  hat. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  for  a  living,  now  ?" 
152 


Confidence  Men  Abroad 

I  inquired,  feeling  somehow  that,  after  all  these 
adventures,  life  in  New  York  must  seem  very  tame 
to  him. 

"Why,"  he  exclaimed,  a  smile  of  childish  inno- 
cence lighting  up  his  face,"  I've  got  the  greatest 
thing  you  ever  seen — a  sure  winner!  It's  an  oil 
well  that  spouts  six  hundred  gallons  an  hour. 
We're  goin'  to  pay  a  twenty-five  per  cent,  divi- 
dend next  month.  Say,  I'll  let  you  in  on  the 
ground  floor!  You  can  double  your  money 
in " 

"No,  thank  you,  Jim,"  I  answered,  closing  my 
desk  and  holding  out  my  hand.  "  I  have  got  to  go 
out  to  lunch." 


153 


THE  FRANKLIN  SYNDICATE 


155 


VI 

The  Franklin  Syndicate 

WHEN  Robert  A.  Ammon,  a  member  of  the 
New  York  bar,  was  convicted,  after  a 
long  trial,  on  the  lyth  of  June,  1903,  of  receiving 
stolen  goods,  he  had,  in  the  parlance  of  his  class, 
been  "  due  "  for  a  long  time.  The  stolen  property 
in  question  was  the  sum  of  thirty  thousand  five 
hundred  dollars  in  greenbacks,  part  of  the  loot  of 
the  notorious  "Franklin  Syndicate,"  devised  and 
engineered  by  William  F.  Miller,  who  later  be- 
came the  catspaw  of  his  legal  adviser,  the  subject 
of  this  history. 

Ammon  stood  at  the  bar  and  listened  compla- 
cently to  his  sentence  of  not  less  than  four  years  at 
hard  labor  in  Sing  Sing.  A  sneer  curved  his  lips 
as,  after  nodding  curtly  to  his  lawyer,  he  turned  to 
be  led  away  by  the  court  attendant.  The  fortune 
snatched  from  his  client  had  procured  for  him  the 
most  adroit  of  counsel,  the  most  exhaustive  of 
trials.  He  knew  that  nothing  had  been  left  un- 

157 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

done  to  enable  him  to  evade  the  consequences  of 
his  crime,  and  he  was  cynically  content. 

For  years  "  Bob "  Ammon  had  been  a  familiar 
figure  in  the  Wall  Street  district  of  New  York. 
Although  the  legal  adviser  of  swindlers  and  con- 
fidence men,  he  was  a  type  of  American  whose  en- 
ergies, if  turned  in  a  less  dubious  direction,  might 
well  have  brought  him  honorable  distinction. 
Tall,  strong  as  a  bull,  bluff,  good-natured,  reckless 
and  of  iron  nerve,  he  would  have  given  good  ac- 
count of  himself  as  an  Indian  fighter  or  frontiers- 
man. His  fine  presence,  his  great  vitality,  his 
coarse  humor,  his  confidence  and  bravado,  had 
won  for  him  many  friends  of  a  certain  kind  and 
engendered  a  feeling  among  the  public  that  some- 
how, although  the  associate  and  adviser  of  crimi- 
nals, he  was  outside  the  law,  to  the  circumventing 
of  which  his  energies  were  directed.  Unfortu- 
nately his  experiences  with  the  law  had  bred  in 
him  a  contempt  for  it  which  ultimately  caused  his 
downfall. 

"  The  reporters  are  bothering  you,  are  they  ? " 
he  had  said  to  Miller  in  his  office.  "Hang  them! 
Send  them  to  me.  I'll  talk  to  them!" 

And  talk  to  them  he  did.  He  could  talk  a  police 
inspector  or  a  city  magistrate  into  a  state  of  vacu- 
ous credulity,  and  needless  to  say  he  was  to  his 
clients  as  a  god  knowing  both  good  and  evil,  as 

.58 


The  Franklin  Syndicate 

well  as  how  to  eschew  the  one  and  avoid  the  other. 
Miller  hated,  loathed  and  feared  him,  yet  freely 
entrusted  his  liberty,  and  all  he  had  risked  his  lib- 
erty to  gain,  to  this  strange  and  powerful  person- 
ality which  held  him  enthralled  by  the  mere  exer- 
cise of  a  physical  superiority. 

The  "Franklin  Syndicate"  had  collapsed  amid 
the  astonished  outcries  of  its  thousands  of  victims, 
on  November  24th,  1899,  when,  under  the  advice 
and  with  the  assistance  of  Ammon,  its  organizer, 
"520  per  cent.  Miller,"  had  fled  to  Canada.  It 
was  nearly  four  years  later,  in  June,  1903,  that 
Ammon,  arraigned  at  the  bar  of  justice  as  a  crimi- 
nal, heard  Assistant  District  Attorney  Nott  call 
William  F.  Miller,  convict,  to  the  stand  to  testify 
against  him.  A  curious  contrast  they  presented  as 
they  faced  one  another;  the  emaciated  youth  of 
twenty-five,  the  hand  of  Death  already  tightly  fas- 
tened upon  his  meagre  frame,  coughing,  hollow- 
cheeked,  insignificant,  flat-nosed,  almost  repul- 
sive, who  dragged  himself  to  the  witness  chair, 
and  the  swaggering  athlete  who  glared  at  him 
from  the  bar  surrounded  by  his  cordon  of  able 
counsel.  As  Ammon  fixed  his  penetrating  gaze 
upon  his  former  client,  Miller  turned  pale  and 
dropped  his  eyes.  Then  the  prosecutor,  realizing 
the  danger  of  letting  the  old  hypnotic  power  return, 
even  for  an  instant,  quickly  stepped  between  them. 

159 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Miller  raised  his  eyes  and  smiled,  and  those  who 
heard  knew  that  this  miserable  creature  had  been 
through  the  fire  and  come  forth  to  speak  true 
things. 

The  trial  of  Ammon  involved  practically  the  re- 
proving of  the  case  against  Miller,  for  which  the 
latter  had  been  convicted  and  sentenced  to  ten 
years  in  State's  prison,  whence  he  now  issued  like 
one  from  the  tomb  to  point  the  skeleton,  incrimin- 
ating finger  at  his  betrayer.  But  the  case  began 
by  the  convict-witness  testifying  that  the  whole 
business  was  a  miserable  fraud  from  start  to  fin- 
ish, carried  on  and  guided  by  the  advice  of  the  de- 
fendant. He  told  how  he,  a  mere  boy  of  twenty- 
one,  burdened  with  a  sick  wife  and  baby,  unfitted 
by  training  or  ability  for  any  sort  of  lucrative  em- 
ployment, a  hanger-on  of  bucket  shops  and,  in  his 
palmiest  days,  a  speculator  in  tiny  lots  of  feebly 
margined  stocks,  finding  himself  without  means 
of  support,  conceived  the  alluring  idea  of  soliciting 
funds  for  investment,  promising  enormous  inter- 
est, and  paying  this  interest  out  of  the  principal 
intrusted  to  him.  For  a  time  he  preyed  only 
upon  his  friends,  claiming  "inside  information" 
of  large  "deals"  and  paying  ten  per  cent,  per 
week  on  the  money  received  out  of  his  latest 
deposits. 

Surely  the  history  of  civilization  is  a  history  of 
1 60 


The  Franklin  Syndicate 

credulity.  Miller  prospered.  His  earlier  friend- 
customers  who  had  hesitatingly  taken  his  receipt 
for  ten  dollars,  and  thereafter  had  received  one 
dollar  every  Monday  morning,  repeated  the  opera- 
tion and  returned  in  ever-increasing  numbers. 
From  having  his  office  "in  his  hat,"  he  took  an 
upper  room  in  a  small  two-story  house  at  144 
Floyd  Street,  Brooklyn — an  humble  tenement, 
destined  to  be  the  scene  of  one  of  the  most  extraor- 
dinary exhibitions  of  man's  cupidity  and  foolish- 
ness in  modern  times.  At  first  he  had  tramped 
round,  like  a  pedler,  delivering  the  dividends  him- 
self and  soliciting  more,  but  soon  he  hired  a  boy. 
This  was  in  February,  1899.  Business  increased. 
The  golden  flood  began  to  appear  in  an  atten- 
uated but  constant  rivulet.  He  hired  four  more 
employees  and  the  whole  top  floor  of  the  house. 
The  golden  rivulet  became  a  steady  stream. 
From  a  "panhandler"  he  rolled  in  ready  thousands. 
The  future  opened  into  magnificent  auriferous 
distances.  He  began  to  call  himself  "The  Frank- 
lin Syndicate,"  and  to  advertise  that  "the  way 
to  wealth  is  as  plain  as  the  road  to  the  market." 
He  copied  the  real  brokers  and  scattered  cir- 
culars and  "weekly  letters"  over  the  country, 
exciting  the  rural  mind  in  distant  Manitoba  and 
Louisiana. 

There  was  an  instantaneous  response.    His  mail 
161 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

required  the  exclusive  attention  of  several  clerks. 
The  stream  of  gold  became  a  rushing  torrent. 
Every  Monday  morning  the  Floyd  Street  house 
was  crowded  with  depositors  who  drew  their  inter- 
est, added  to  it,  deposited  it  again,  and  went  upon 
their  way  rejoicing.  Nobody  was  going  to  have  to 


( 
at  amp  tine,  cfau&nck  to  6c  fiatd  ttiee&fy  in  6umA 


One  of  Miller's  Franklin  Syndicate  Receipts. 

work  any  more.  The  out-of-town  customers  re- 
ceived checks  for  their  interest  drawn  upon  "The 
Franklin  Syndicate,"  together  with  printed  re- 
ceipts for  their  deposits,  all  signed  "William  F. 
Miller,"  by  means  of  a  rubber  stamp.  No  human 
hand  could  have  signed  them  all  without  writer's 

162 


The  Franklin  Syndicate 

cramp.  The  rubber  stamp  was  Miller's  official 
signature.  Then  with  a  mighty  roar  the  torrent 
burst  into  a  deluge.  The  Floyd  Street  quarters 
were  besieged  by  a  clamoring  multitude  fighting 
to  see  which  of  them  could  give  up  his  money  first, 
and  there  had  to  be  a  special  delivery  for  Miller's 
mail.  He  rented  the  whole  house  and  hired  fifty 
clerks.  You  could  deposit  your  money  almost 
anywhere,  from  the  parlor  to  the  pantry,  the  clothes 
closet  or  the  bath-room.  Fridays  the  public 
stormed  the  house  en  masse,  since  the  money  must 
be  deposited  on  that  day  to  draw  interest  for  the 
following  week.  The  crush  was  so  enormous  that 
the  stoop  broke  down.  Imagine  it!  In  quiet 
Brooklyn!  People  struggling  to  get  up  the  steps 
to  cram  their  money  into  Miller's  pockets!  There 
he  sat,  behind  a  desk,  at  the  top  of  the  stoop,  sol- 
emnly taking  the  money  thrown  down  before  him 
and  handing  out  little  pink  and  green  stamped 
receipts  in  exchange.  There  was  no  place  to  put 
the  money,  so  it  was  shoved  on  to  the  floor  behind 
him.  Friday  afternoons  Miller  and  his  clerks 
waded  through  it,  knee  high.  There  was  no  pre- 
tense of  bookkeeping.  Simply  in  self-defense 
Miller  issued  in  October  a  pronunciamento  that 
he  could  not  in  justice  to  his  business,  consent  to 
receive  less  than  fifty  dollars  at  one  time.  Theo- 
retically, there  was  no  reason  why  the  thing  should 

163 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

not  have  gone  on  practically  forever,  Miller  and 
everybody  else  becoming  richer  and  richer.  So 
long  as  the  golden  stream  swelled  five  times  each 
year  everybody  would  be  happy.  How  could  any- 
body fail  to  be  happy  who  saw  so  much  money 
lying  around  loose  everywhere  ? 

But  the  business  had  increased  to  such  an  extent 
that  Miller  began  to  distrust  his  own  capacity  to 
handle  it.  He  therefore  secured  a  partner  in  the 
person  of  one  Edward  Schlessinger,  and  with  him 
went  to  Charlestown,  Mass.,  for  the  purpose  of 
opening  another  office,  in  charge  of  which  they 
placed  a  man  named  Louis  Powers.  History  re- 
peated itself.  Powers  shipped  the  deposits  to 
Miller  every  day  or  two  by  express.  Was  there 
ever  such  a  plethora  of  easy  money  ? 

But  Schlessinger  was  no  Miller.  He  decided 
that  he  must  have  a  third  of  the  profits  (Heaven 
knows  how  they  computed  them !)  and  have  them, 
moreover,  each  day  in  cash.  Hence  there  was  a 
daily  accounting,  part  of  the  receipts  being  laid 
aside  to  pay  off  interest  checks  and  interest,  and 
the  balance  divided.  Schlessinger  carried  his  off 
in  a  bag;  Miller  took  the  rest,  cash,  money 
orders  and  checks,  and  deposited  it  in  a  real 
bank.  How  the  money  poured  in  may  be  re- 
alized from  the  fact  that  the  excess  of  receipts 
over  disbursements  for  the  month  ending  No- 

164 


The  Franklin  Syndicate 

vember  i6th  was   four  hundred  and  thirty  thou- 
sand dollars. 

Hitherto  Miller  had  been  the  central  figure. 
Col.  Robert  A.  Ammon  now  became  the  deus  ex 
machina.  Miller's  advertising  had  become  so 
extensive  that  he  had  been  forced  to  retain  a  pro- 
fessional agent,  one  Rudolph  Guenther,  to  super- 
vise it,  and  when  the  newspapers  began  to  make 
unpleasant  comments,  Guenther  took  Miller  to 
Ammon's  office  in  the  Bennett  Building  in  Nassau 
Street.  Ammon  accepted  a  hundred  dollars  from 
Miller,  listened  to  his  account  of  the  business  and 
examined  copies  of  the  circulars.  When  he  was 
handed  one  of  the  printed  receipts  he  said  they 
were  "incriminating/'  Miller  must  try  to  get 
them  back.  He  advised  (as  many  another  learned 
counsellor  has  done)  incorporating  the  business, 
since  by  this  means  stock  could  be  sold  and  ex- 
changed for  the  incriminating  receipts.  He  ex- 
plained the  mistakes  of  the  "Dean  crowd,"  but 
showed  how  he  had  been  able  to  safeguard  them  in 
spite  of  the  fact  that  they  had  foolishly  insisted  on 
holding  the  stock  in  their  company  themselves  in- 
stead of  making  their  customers  the  stockholders. 
Nevertheless  "you  do  not  see  any  of  the  Dean 
people  in  jail,"  boasted  Ammon.  From  now  on 
Miller  and  he  were  in  frequent  consultation,  and 
Ammon  took  steps  to  incorporate,  procuring  for 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

that  purpose  from  Wells,  Fargo  &  Co.  a  certificate 
of  deposit  for  one  hundred  thousand  dollars.  Oc- 
casionally he  would  visit  Floyd  Street  to  see  how 
things  were  going.  Miller  became  a  mere  puppet; 
Ammon  twitched  the  wire. 

It  was  now  well  on  in  November,  and  the  press 
of  both  Boston  and  New  York  was  filled  with 
scathing  attacks  upon  the  Syndicate.  The  re- 
porters became  so  inquisitive  as  to  be  annoying  to 
the  peaceful  Miller.  "Send  the  reporters  over  to 
me!"  directed  Ammon. 

The  Post  (of  Boston)  said  the  whole  thing  was 
a  miserable  swindle.  Ammon,  accompanied  by 
Miller,  carrying  a  satchel  which  contained  fifty 
thousand  dollars  in  greenbacks,  went  to  Boston, 
visited  the  offices  of  the  Post,  and  pitched  into  the 
editor. 

"The  business  is  all  right;  you  must  give  us  a 
fair  deal!" 

The  pair  also  visited  Watts,  the  chief  of  police. 

"You  keep  your  mouth  shut/'  said  Ammon  to 
Miller.  "  I'll  do  all  the  talking."  He  showed  Watts 
the  bag  of  money,  and  demanded  what  he  had 
meant  by  calling  the  enterprise  a  "green  goods 
business."  If  the  thing  wasn't  all  right,  did 
Watts  suppose  that  he,  Col.  Robert  A.  Ammon, 
would  be  connected  wi'h  it  ?  The  chief  backed 
down,  and  explained  that  he  had  jokingly  referred 

1 66 


The  Franklin  Syndicate 

to  the  color  of  one  of  the  receipts — which  hap- 
pened to  be  green. 

In  spite  of  Ammon's  confidence,  however,  there 
was  an  uneasy  feeling  in  the  air,  and  it  was  decided 
to  put  an  advertisement  in  the  Post  offering  to 
allow  any  customer  who  so  desired  to  withdraw  his 
deposit,  without  notice,  upon  the  following  Satur- 
day. This  announcement  did  not  have  precisely 
the  anticipated  effect,  and  Saturday  saw  a  large 
crowd  of  victims  eager  to  withdraw  their  money 
from  the  Boston  office  of  the  Fanklin  Syndicate. 
Powers  paid  the  "Pauls  "  of  Boston,  out  of  the 
bag  brought  on  by  Miller  containing  the  deposits 
of  the  "Peters"  of  Brooklyn.  Meantime,  Am- 
mon  addressed  the  throng,  incidentally  black- 
guarding a  Post  reporter  before  the  crowd,  telling 
them  that  his  paper  was  a  "yellow  paper,  had 
never  amounted  to  anything,  and  never  would." 
Some  timid  souls  took  courage  and  redeposited 
their  money.  The  run  continued  one  day  and 
cost  Ammon  and  Miller  about  twenty -eight 
thousand  dollars.  Ammon  took  five  thousand 
dollars  cash  as  a  fee  out  of  the  bag,  and  the  pair 
returned  to  New  York.  But  confidence  had  been 
temporarily  restored. 

The  beginning  of  the  end,  however,  was  now  in 
sight — at  least  for  the  keen  vision  of  Bob  Ammon. 
He  advised  stimulating  deposits  and  laying  hands 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

on  all  the  money  possible  before  the  crash  came. 
Accordingly  Miller  sent  a  telegram  (collect)  to  all 
depositors : 

We  have  inside  information  of  a  big  transaction,  to 
begin  Saturday  or  Monday  morning.  Big  profits.  Re- 
mit at  once  so  as  to  receive  the  profits. 

WILLIAM  F.  MILLER, 

Franklin  Syndicate. 

A  thousand  or  so  were  returned,  the  depositors 
having  refused  to  pay  the  charges.  The  rest  of  the 
customers  in  large  measure  responded.  But  the 
game  was  nearly  up.  There  were  scare-heads  in 
the  papers.  Miller  saw  detectives  on  every  corner, 
and,  like  a  rat  leaving  a  sinking  ship,  Schlessinger 
scuttled  away  for  the  last  time  with  a  bag  of 
money  on  the  evening  of  Tuesday,  November  2ist, 
1899.  The  rest  of  the  deposits  were  crammed  into 
Miller's  desk  and  left  there  over  night. 

The  next  morning  Miller  returned  to  Floyd 
Street  and  spent  that  day  in  the  usual  routine,  and 
also  on  Thursday  remained  until  about  twelve 
o'clock  noon,  when  he  placed  thirty  thousand  five 
hundred  dollars  in  bills  in  a  satchel  and  started  for 
Ammon's  office,  where  he  found  Schlessinger — 
likewise  with  a  satchel. 

"The  jig's  up,"  announced  Schlessinger. 

"Billy,  I  think  you'll  have  to  make  a  run  for 
168 


The  Franklin  Syndicate 

it,"  said  Ammon.     "The  best  thing  for  you  is  to 
go  to  Canada." 

It  still  remained  to  secure  the  money,  which 
Miller  had  deposited  in  the  banks,  in  such  a  way 
that  the  customers  could  not  get  hold  of  it.  Am- 
mon explained  how  that  could  easily  be  done. 


Ammon's  deposit  slips  and  a  receipt  signed  by  Mrs.  Ammon. 

The  money  should  be  all  turned  over  to  him,  and 
none  of  the  creditors  would  ever  see  it  again.  He 
did  not  deem  it  necessary  to  suggest  that  neither 
would  Miller.  Accordingly  the  two,  the  lawyer 
and  the  client,  went  to  the  office  of  Wells,  Fargo 
&  Co.,  Ammon  obligingly  carrying  the  satchel  con- 

169 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

taining  the  thirty  thousand  five  hundred  dollars. 
Here  Ammon  deposited  the  contents  to  his  own 
account,  as  well  as  the  certificate  of  deposit  for  one 
hundred  thousand  dollars  previously  mentioned, 
and  a  check  for  ten  thousand  dollars,  representing 
the  balance  of  Miller's  loot.  In  addition  to  this  he 
received  an  order  for  forty  thousand  dollars  United 
States  Government  bonds,  which  were  on  deposit 
with  Wells,  Fargo  &  Co.,  and  later,  through  Mil- 
ler's father,  sixty-five  thousand  dollars  in  bonds  of 
the  New  York  Central  Railroad  and  the  United 
States  Government.  Thus  Ammon  secured  from 
his  dupe  the  sum  of  two  hundred  and  forty- 
five  thousand  five  hundred  dollars,  the  actual 
market  value  of  the  securities  bringing  the  amount 
up  to  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  five  hundred 
dollars,  besides  whatever  sums  he  had  been  paid 
by  Miller  for  legal  services,  which  could  not  have 
been  less  than  ten  or  fifteen  thousand  dollars.  The 
character  of  the  gentleman  is  well  illustrated 
by  the  fact  that  later  when  paying  Mrs.  Miller 
her  miserable  pittance  of  five  dollars  per  week, 
he  explained  to  her  that  "he  was  giving  her  that 
out  of  his  own  money,  and  that  her  husband  owed 
him." 

There  still  remained,  however,  the  chance  of 
getting  a  few  dollars  more  and  Ammon  advised 
Miller  "to  try  to  get  Friday's  receipts,  which  were 

170 


The  Franklin  Syndicate 

the  heaviest  day's  business."  Acting  on  this  sug- 
gestion, Miller  returned  to  Floyd  Street  the  next 
morning  at  about  half  past  nine,  finding  a  great 
crowd  of  people  waiting  outside.  About  one 
o'clock  he  started  to  go  home,  but  discovering  that 
he  was  being  followed  by  a  man  whom  he  took  to 
be  a  detective,  he  boarded  a  street  car,  dodged 
through  a  drug  store  and  a  Chinese  laundry,  finally 
made  the  elevated  railroad,  with  his  pursuer  at  his 
heels,  and  eventually  reached  the  lawyer's  office 
about  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  Word  was  re- 
ceived almost  immediately  over  the  telephone  that 
Miller  had  been  indicted  in  Kings  County  for  con- 
spiracy to  defraud,  and  Ammon  stated  that  the  one 
thing  for  Miller  to  do  was  to  go  away.  Miller  re- 
plied that  he  did  not  want  to  go  unless  he  could 
take  his  wife  and  baby  with  him,  but  Ammon 
assured  him  that  he  would  send  them  to  Canada 
later  in  charge  of  his  own  wife.  Under  this  prom- 
ise Miller  agreed  to  go,  and  Ammon  procured  a 
man  named  Enright  to  take  Miller  to  Canada,  say- 
ing that  "  he  was  an  ex-detective  and  could  get  him 
out  of  the  way."  Ammon  further  promised  to 
forward  to  Miller  whatever  money  he  might  need 
to  retain  lawyers  for  him  in  Montreal.  Thereupon 
Miller  exchanged  hats  with  some  one  in  Ammon's 
office  and  started  for  Canada  in  the  custody  of  the 
lawyer's  representative. 

171 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

How  the  wily  colonel  must  have  chuckled  as 
poor  Miller  trotted  down  the  stairs  like  a  sheep 
leaving  his  fleece  behind  him.  A  golden  fleece  in- 
deed! Did  ever  a  lawyer  have  such  a  piece  of 
luck  ?  Here  was  a  little  fellow  who  had  invented 
a  brilliant  scheme  to  get  away  with  other  people's 
money  and  had  carried  it  through  successfully — 
more  than  successfully,  beyond  the  dreams  of  even 
the  most  avaricious  criminal,  and  then,  richer  than 
Midas,  had  handed  over  the  whole  jolly  fortune  to 
another  for  the  other's  asking,  without  even  taking 
a  scrap  of  paper  to  show  for  it.  More  than  that,  he 
had  then  voluntarily  extinguished  himself.  Had 
Ammon  not  chuckled  he  would  not  have  been 
Bob  Ammon.  The  money  was  stolen,  to  be  sure, 
but  Ammon's  skirts  were  clear.  There  was  noth- 
ing to  show  that  the  two  hundred  and  forty-five 
thousand  dollars  he  had  received  was  stolen  money. 
There  was  only  one  man — a  discredited  felon,  who 
could  hint  that  the  money  was  even  "tainted," 
and  be  was  safely  over  the  border,  in  a  foreign 
jurisdiction,  not  in  the  custody  of  the  police,  but  of 
Ammon  himself,  to  be  kept  there  (as  Mr.  Robert 
C.  Taylor  so  aptly  phrased  it  in  arguing  Ammon's 
case  on  appeal)  "on  waiting  orders.  Ammon  had 
Miller  on  a  string,  and  as  soon  as  Ammon  (for  his 
own  sake)  was  compelled  either  to  produce  Miller 
or  to  run  the  risk  of  indictment,  he  pulled  the 

172 


The  Franklin  Syndicate 

string  and  brought  Miller  back  into  the  juris- 
diction." 

Needless  to  say  great  was  the  ado  made  over  the 
disappearance  of  the  promoter  of  the  Franklin 
Syndicate,  and  the  authorities  of  King's  County 
speedily  let  it  become  known  that  justice  required 
that  some  one  should  be  punished  for  the  colossal 
fraud  which  had  been  perpetrated.  The  grand 
jury  of  the  county  started  a  general  investigation. 
Public  indignation  was  stirred  to  the  point  of 
ebullition.  In  the  midst  of  the  rumpus,  there  came 
a  knock  on  the  office  door  of  the  Hon.  John  F. 
Clark,  District  Attorney  of  King's  County,  and 
Col.  Robert  A.  Ammon  announced  himself.  The 
two  men  were  entire  strangers  to  each  other  but 
this  did  not  prevent  Ammon,  with  his  inimitable 
assurance,  from  addressing  the  District  Attorney 
by  his  first  name. 

"How  are  you,  John?"  he  inquired  noncha- 
lantly, "  what  can  I  do  for  you  ? " 

Mr.  Clark  repressed  his  natural  inclination  to 
kick  the  insolent  fellow  forcibly  out  of  his  office, 
invited  him  to  be  seated  and  rang  for  a  stenog- 
rapher. Ammon  asserted  his  anxiety  to  assist  the 
District  Attorney  by  every  means  in  his  power, 
but  denied  knowing  the  whereabouts  of  Miller, 
alleging  that  he  was  simply  acting  as  his  counsel. 
Mr.  Clark  replied  that  in  Miller's  absence  the 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

grand  jury  might  take  the  view  that  Ammon  him- 
self was  the  principal.  At  this  Ammon  calmly 
assured  his  host  that  as  far  as  he  was  concerned 
he  was  ready  to  go  before  the  grand  jury  at  any 
time. 

"That  is  just  what  I  want,"  returned  Mr. 
Clark,  "  the  grand  jury  is  in  session.  Come  over." 

Ammon  arose  with  a  smile  and  accompanied  the 
District  Attorney  towards  the  door  of  the  grand 
jury  room.  Just  outside  he  suddenly  placed  his 
hand  to  his  head  as  if  recollecting  something. 

"One  moment,"  he  exclaimed.  "I  forgot  that 
I  have  an  engagement.  I  will  come  over  to- 


morrow." 


"Ah!"  retorted  Mr.  Clark,  "I  do  not  think  you 
will  be  here  to-morrow." 

Two  weeks  later  Miller  was  safely  ensconced 
without  bail  in  Raymond  Street  Jail. 

Schlessinger,  who  got  away  with  one  hundred 
and  seventy-five  thousand  dollars  in  cash,  fled  to 
Europe  where  he  lived  high,  frequenting  the  race 
tracks  and  gaming  tables  until  he  was  called  to  his 
final  account  a  year  or  two  ago.  The  money 
which  he  took  has  never  been  traced.  Miller  was 
tried,  convicted  and  sent  to  Sing  Sing.  The  Ap- 
pellate Division  of  the  Supreme  Court  then 
reversed  his  conviction,  but  later,  on  appeal  to  the 
Court  of  Appeals,  it  was  sustained. 

174 


The  Franklin  Syndicate 

Of  the  enormous  sums  turned  over  to  Ammon 
Miller  received  nothing  save  the  money  necessary 
for  his  support  in  Montreal,  for  the  lawyers  who  de- 
fended him,  and  five  dollars  per  week  for  his  wife 
and  child  up  to  the  time  he  turned  State's  evidence. 
It  is  interesting  to  note  that  among  the  counsel 
representing  Miller  upon  his  trial  was  Ammon 
himself.  Miller's  wife  and  child  were  not  sent  to 
Montreal  by  Ammon,  nor  did  the  latter  secure  bail 
for  his  client  at  any  time  during  his  different  peri- 
ods of  incarceration.  The  colonel  knew  very  well 
that  it  was  a  choice  between  himself  and  Miller 
and  took  no  steps  which  might  necessitate  the 
election  falling  upon  himself. 

The  conviction  of  Miller,  with  his  sentence  to 
ten  years  in  State's  prison  did  not,  however,  pre-r 
vent  the  indictment  of  Ammon  for  receiving  stolen 
money  in  New  York  County,  although  the  chance 
that  he  would  ever  have  to  suffer  for  his  crime 
seemed  small  indeed.  The  reader  must  bear  in 
mind  that  up  to  the  time  of  Ammon's  trial  Miller 
had  never  admitted  his  guilt;  that  he  was  still  ab- 
solutely, and  apparently  irrevocably,  under  Am- 
mon's sinister  influence,  keeping  in  constant  com- 
munication with  him  and  implicitly  obeying  his 
instructions  while  in  prison;  and  that  Miller's  wife 
and  child  were  dependent  upon  Ammon  for  their 
daily  bread.  No  wonder  Ammon  strode  the  streets 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

confident  that  his  creature  would  never  betray 
him. 

"Now,  Billy,  you  don't  want  to  be  shooting  off 
your  mouth  up  here,"  was  his  parting  injunction 
to  his  dupe  on  his  final  visit  to  Sing  Sing  before  he 
became  a  guest  there  himself  at  the  expense  of  the 
People. 

Miller  followed  his  orders  to  the  letter,  and  the 
stipend  was  increased  to  the  munificent  sum  of 
forty  dollars  per  month. 

Meantime  the  case  against  Ammon  languished 
and  the  District  Attorney  of  New  York  County 
was  at  his  wits'  end  to  devise  a  means  to  procure 
the  evidence  to  convict  him.  To  do  this  it  would 
be  necessary  to  establish  affirmatively  that  the 
thirty  thousand  five  hundred  dollars  received  by 
Ammon  from  Miller  and  deposited  with  Wells, 
Fargo  &  Co.  was  the  identical  money  stolen  by 
Miller  from  the  victims  of  the  Franklin  Syndicate. 
It  was  easy  enough  to  prove  that  Miller  stole  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  dollars,  that  Ammon  re- 
ceived hundreds  of  thousands,  but  you  had  to 
prove  that  the  same  money  stolen  by  Miller  passed 
to  the  hands  of  Ammon.  Only  one  man  in  the 
world,  as  Ammon  had  foreseen,  could  supply  this 
last  necessary  link  in  the  chain  of  evidence  and  he 
was  a  convict — and  mute. 

It  now  became  the  task  of  the  District  Attorney 
176 


The  Franklin  Syndicate 

to  induce  Miller  to  confess  the  truth  and  take  the 
stand  against  Ammon.  He  had  been  in  prison  a 
considerable  time  and  his  health  was  such  as  to 
necessitate  his  being  transferred  to  the  hosptial 
ward.  Several  of  the  District  Attorney's  assistants 
visited  him  at  various  times  at  Sing  Sing  in  the 
hope  of  being  able  to  persuade  him  to  turn  State's 
evidence,  but  all  their  efforts  were  in  vain.  Miller 
refused  absolutely  to  say  anything  that  would  tend 
to  implicate  Ammon. 

At  last  the  District  Attorney  himself,  accom- 
panied by  Mr.  Nott,  who  later  prosecuted  Ammon, 
made  a  special  trip  to  Sing  Sing  to  see  what  could 
be  done.  They  found  Miller  lying  upon  his  prison 
pallet,  his  harsh  cough  and  blazing  eyes  speaking 
only  too  patently  of  his  condition.  At  first  Mr. 
Nott  tried  to  engage  him  in  conversation  while  the 
District  Attorney  occupied  himself  with  other 
business  in  another  part  of  the  ward,  but  it  was 
easily  apparent  that  Miller  would  say  nothing. 
The  District  Attorney  then  approached  the  bed 
where  Miller  was  lying  and  inquired  if  it  were  true 
that  he  declined  to  say  anything  which  might  tend 
to  incriminate  Ammon.  After  some  hesitation 
Miller  replied  that,  even  if  he  should  testify  against 
his  old  accomplice,  there  was  nothing  to  show  that 
he  would  be  pardoned,  and  that  he  would  not  talk 
unless  he  had  actually  in  his  hands  some  paper  or 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

writing  which  would  guarantee  that  if  he  did  so  he 
would  be  set  free. 

The  spectacle  of  a  convicted  felon  haggling 
"with  an  officer  of  the  law  over  the  terms  upon 
which  he  would  consent  to  avail  himself  of  an  op- 
portunity to  make  the  only  reparation  still  possible 
angered  the  District  Attorney,  and,  turning  fiercely 
upon  the  prisoner,  he  arraigned  him  in  scathing 
terms,  stating  that  he  was  a  miserable  swindler  and 
thief,  who  had  robbed  thousands  of  poor  people  of 
all  the  money  they  had  in  the  world,  that  he  showed 
himself  devoid  of  every  spark  of  decency  or  repen- 
tance by  refusing  to  assist  the  law  in  punishing  his 
confederate  and  assisting  his  victims  in  getting 
back  what  was  left  of  the  money,  and  that  he,  the 
District  Attorney,  felt  himself  humiliated  in  having 
consented  to  come  there  to  visit  and  talk  with  such 
a  heartless  and  depraved  specimen  of  humanity. 
The  District  Attorney  then  turned  his  back  upon 
Miller,  whose  eyes  filled  with  tears,  but  who  made 
no  response. 

A  few  moments  later  the  convict  asked  permis- 
sion to  speak  to  the  District  Attorney  alone.  With 
some  reluctance  the  latter  granted  the  request  and 
the  others  drew  away. 

"  Mr.  District  Attorney,"  said  the  wretched  man 
in  a  trembling  voice,  with  the  tears  still  suffusing 
his  eyes,  "I  am  a  thief;  I  did  rob  all  those  poor 

178 


The  Franklin  Syndicate 

people,  and  I  am  heartily  sorry  for  it.  I  would 
gladly  die,  if  by  doing  so  I  could  pay  them  back. 
But  I  haven't  a  single  cent  of  all  the  money  that 
I  stole  and  the  only  thing  that  stands  between  my 
wife  and  baby  and  starvation  is  my  keeping  silence. 
If  I  did  what  you  ask,  the  only  money  they  have  to 
live  on  would  be  stopped.  I  can't  see  them  starve, 
glad  as  I  would  be  to  do  what  I  can  now  to  make 
up  for  the  wrong  I  have  done." 

The  District  Attorney's  own  eyes  were  not  en- 
tirely dry  as  he  held  out  his  hand  to  Miller. 

"  Miller,"  he  replied,  "  I  have  done  you  a  great 
injustice.  I  honor  you  for  the  position  you  have 
taken.  Were  I  in  your  place  I  should  probably  act 
exactly  as  you  are  doing.  I  cannot  promise  you  a 
pardon  if  you  testify  against  Ammon.  I  cannot 
even  promise  that  your  wife  will  receive  forty  dol- 
lars a  month,  for  the  money  in  my  charge  cannot 
be  used  for  such  a  purpose;  all  I  can  assure  you  of 
is  that,  should  you  decide  to  help  me,  a  full  and 
fair  statement  of  all  you  may  have  done  will  be 
sent  to  the  Governor  with  a  request  that  he  act  fa- 
vorably upon  any  application  for  a  pardon  which 
you  may  make.  The  choice  must  be  your  own. 
Whatever  you  decide  to  do,  you  have  my  respect 
and  sympathy.  Think  well  over  the  matter.  Do 
not  decide  at  once;  wait  for  a  day  or  two,  and  I  will 
return  to  New  York  and  you  can  send  me  word." 

179 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

The  next  day  Miller  sent  word  that  he  had  de- 
termined to  tell  the  truth  and  take  the  stand, 
whatever  the  consequences  to  himself  and  his 
family  might  be.  He  was  immediately  trans- 
ferred to  the  Tombs  Prison  in  New  York  City, 
where  he  made  a  complete  and  full  confession, 
not  only  assisting  in  every  way  in  securing  evidence 
for  the  prosecution  of  Ammon,  but  aiding  his 
trustee  in  bankruptcy  to  determine  the  where- 
abouts of  some  sixty  thousand  dollars  of  the  stolen 
money,  which  but  for  him  would  never  have 
been  recovered.  At  the  same  time  Ammon  was 
re-arrested  upon  a  bench  warrant,  and  his  bail 
sufficiently  increased  to  render  his  appearance 
for  trial  probable.  As  Miller  had  foreseen,  the 
monthly  payment  to  his  wife  instantly  stopped. 

The  usual  effect  produced  upon  a  jury  by  the 
testimony  of  a  convict  accomplice  is  one  of  distrust 
or  open  incredulity.  Every  word  of  Miller's  story, 
however,  carried  with  it  the  impression  of  absolute 
truth.  As  he  proceeded,  in  spite  of  the  sneers  of 
the  defence,  an  extraordinary  wave  of  sympathy 
for  the  man  swept  over  the  court-room,  and  the 
jury  listened  with  close  attention  to  his  graphic 
account  of  the  rise  and  fall  of  the  outrageous  con- 
spiracy which  had  attempted  to  shield  its  alluring 
offer  of  instant  wealth  behind  the  name  of  Ameri- 
ca's most  practical  philosopher,  whose  only  receipt 

1 80 


The  Franklin  Syndicate 

for  the  same  end  had  been  frugality  and  industry. 
Supported  as  Miller  was  by  the  corroborative  tes- 
timony of  other  witnesses  and  by  the  certificates  of 
deposit  which  Ammon  had,  with  his  customary 
bravado,  made  out  in  his  own  handwriting,  no 
room  was  left  for  even  the  slightest  doubt,  not  only 
that  the  money  had  been  stolen  but  that  Ammon 
had  received  it.  Indeed  so  plain  was  the  proposi- 
tion that  the  defence  never  for  an  instant  contem- 
plated the  possibility  of  putting  Ammon  upon  the 
stand  in  his  own  behalf.  It  was  in  truth  an  ex- 
traordinary case,  for  the  principal  element  in  the 
proof  was  made  out  by  the  evidence  of  the  thief 
himself  that  he  was  a  thief.  Miller  had  been  tried 
and  convicted  of  the  very  larceny  to  which  he  now 
testified,  and,  although  in  the  eyes  of  the  law  no 
principle  of  res  adjudicata  could  apply  in  Am- 
mon's  case,  it  was  a  logical  conclusion  that  if  the 
evidence  upon  the  first  trial  was  repeated,  the 
necessary  element  of  larceny  would  be  effectu- 
ally established.  Hence,  in  point  of  fact,  Miller's 
testimony  upon  the  question  of  whether  the 
money  had  been  stolen  was  entirely  unnecessary, 
and  the  efforts  of  the  defence  were  directed 
simply  to  making  out  Miller  such  a  miscreant 
upon  his  own  testimony  that  perforce  the  jury 
could  not  accept  his  evidence  when  it  reached 
the  point  of  implicating  Ammon.  All  their  at- 

181 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

tempts  in  this  direction,  however,  only  roused  in- 
creased sympathy  for  the  witness  and  hostility 
toward  their  own  client,  and  made  the  jury  the 
more  ready  to  believe  that  Ammon  had  been  the 
only  one  in  the  end  to  profit  by  the  transaction. 
Briefly,  the  two  points  urged  by  the  defence  were : 

(1)  That  Ammon  was  acting  only  as  Miller's 
counsel,  and  hence  was  immune,  and, 

(2)  That  there  was  no  adequate  legal  evidence 
that  the  thirty  thousand  five  hundred  dollars  which 
Ammon  had  deposited,  as  shown  by  the  deposit 
slip,  was  the  identical  money  stolen  from  the  vic- 
tims of  the  Franklin  syndicate.    As  bearing  upon 
this  they  urged  that  the  stolen  money  had  in  fact 
been  deposited  by  Miller  himself,  and  so  had  lost 
the  character  of  stolen  money  before  it  was  turned 
over  to  the  defendant,  and  that  Miller's  story  being 
that  of  an  accomplice  required  absolute  corrobora- 
tion  in  every  detail. 

The  point  that  Ammon  was  acting  only  as  a  law- 
yer was  quickly  disposed  of  by  Judge  Newburger. 

"Something  has  been  said  by  counsel,"  he  re- 
marked in  his  charge  to  the  jury,  "to  the  effect 
that  the  defendant,  as  a  lawyer,  had  a  perfect  right 
to  advise  Miller,  but  I  know  of  no  rule  of  law  that 
will  permit  counsel  to  advise  how  a  crime  can  be 
committed." 

As  to  the  identity  of  the  money,  the  Court 
182 


The  Franklin  Syndicate 

charged  that  it  made  no  difference  which  person 
performed  the  physical  act  of  placing  the  cash  in 
the  hands  of  the  receiving  teller  of  the  bank,  so 
long  as  it  was  deposited  to  Ammon's  credit. 

On  the  question  of  what  corroboration  of  Mil- 
ler's story  was  necessary,  Judge  Ingraham,  in  the 
Appellate  Division,  expressed  great  doubt  as  to 
whether  in  the  eyes  of  the  law  Miller,  the  thief, 
could  be  regarded  as  an  accomplice  of  Ammon  in 
receiving  the  stolen  money  at  all,  and  stated  that 
even  if  he  could  be  so  regarded,  there  was  more 
than  abundant  corroboration  of  his  testimony. 

Ammon's  conviction  was  affirmed  throughout 
the  courts,  including  the  Court  of  Appeals,  and  the 
defendant  himself  is  now  engaged  in  serving  out 
his  necessarily  inadequate  sentence — necessarily 
inadequate,  since  under  the  laws  of  the  State  of 
New  York,  the  receiver  of  stolen  goods,  however 
great  his  moral  obliquity  may  be,  and  however 
great  the  amount  stolen,  can  only  receive  half  the 
punishment  which  may  be  meted  out  to  the  thief 
himself,  "receiving"  being  punishable  by  only  five 
years  or  less  in  State's  prison,  while  grand  larceny 
is  punishable  by  ten  years. 

Yet  who  was  the  greater  criminal — the  weak, 
ignorant,  poverty-stricken  clerk,  or  the  shrewd,  ex- 
perienced lawyer  who  preyed  upon  his  client  and 
through  him  upon  the  community  at  large  ? 

183 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

The  confession  of  Miller,  in  the  face  of  what  the 
consequences  of  his  course  might  mean  to  his  wife 
and  child,  was  an  act  of  moral  courage.  The  price 
he  had  to  pay  is  known  to  himself  alone.  But  the 
horrors  of  life  in  prison  for  the  "squealer"  were 
thoroughly  familiar  to  him  when  he  elected  to  do 
what  he  could  to  atone  for  his  crime.  In  fact 
Ammon  had  not  neglected  to  picture  them  vividly 
to  him  and  to  stigmatize  an  erstwhile  client  of 
his. 

"  Everything  looks  good,"  he  wrote  to  Miller  in 
Sing  Sing,  in  reporting  the  affirmance  of  Goslin's 
conviction,  "  especially  since  the  squealer  is  getting 
his  just  deserts." 

With  no  certain  knowledge  of  a  future  pardon 
Miller  went  back  to  prison  cheerfully  to  face  all 
the  nameless  tortures  inflicted  upon  those  who 
help  the  State — the  absolute  black  silence  of  con- 
vict excommunication,  the  blows  and  kicks  inflicted 
without  opportunity  for  retaliation  or  complaint, 
the  hostility  of  guards  and  keepers,  the  suffering  of 
abject  poverty,  keener  in  a  prison  house  than  on 
any  other  foot  of  earth. 

It  is  interesting  to  observe  that  Miller's  original- 
purpose  had  been  to  secure  money  to  speculate 
with — for  he  had  been  bitten  deep  by  the  tarantula 
of  Wall  Street,  and  his  early  experiences  had  led 
him  to  believe  that  he  could  beat  the  market  if 

184 


The  Franklin  Syndicate 

only  he  had  sufficient  margin.  This  margin  he  set 
out  to  secure.  Then  when  he  saw  how  easy  it  was 
to  get  money  for  the  asking,  he  dropped  the  idea  of 
speculation  and  simply  became  a  banker.  He  did 
make  one  bona-fide  attempt,  but  the  stock  went 
down,  he  sold  out  and  netted  a  small  loss.  Had 
Miller  actually  continued  to  speculate  it  is  doubtful 
whether  he  could  have  been  convicted  for  any 
crime,  since  it  was  for  that  purpose  that  the  money 
was  entrusted  to  him.  He  might  have  lost  it  all  in 
the  Street  and  gone  scot  free.  As  it  was,  in  failing 
to  gamble  with  it,  he  became  guilty  of  embezzle- 
ment. 

Ammon  arrived  in  Sing  Sing  with  a  degree  of 
eclat.  He  found  numerous  old  friends  and  clients 
among  the  inmates.  He  brought  a  social  position 
which  had  its  value.  Money,  too,  is  no  less  desir- 
able there  than  elsewhere,  and  Ammon  had  plenty 
of  it. 

In  due  course,  but  not  until  he  had  served  more 
than  half  his  sentence  (less  commutation),  Miller 
a  broken  man,  received  his  pardon,  and  went  back 
to  his  wife  and  child.  When  Governor  Higgins 
performed  this  act  of  executive  clemency,  many 
honest  folk  in  Brooklyn  and  elsewhere  loudly 
expressed  their  indignation.  District  Attorney 
Jerome  did  not  escape  their  blame.  Was  this 
contemptible  thief,  this  meanest  of  all  mean  swin- 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

dlers,  who  had  stolen  hundreds  of  thousands  to  be 
turned  loose  on  the  community  before  he  had 
served  half  his  sentence?  It  was  an  outrage!  A 
disgrace  to  civilization !  Reader,  how  say  you  ? 


186 


A  STUDY  IN  FINANCE 


187 


VII 


A  Study  in  Finance 

"  He  that  maketh  haste  to  be  rich  shall  not  be  innocent." 

— PROVERBS  28 :  20. 

THE  victim  of  moral  overstrain  is  the  central 
figure  in  many  novels  and  countless  maga- 
zine stories.  In  most  of  them  he  finally  repents 
him  fully  of  his  sins  past  and  returns  to  his  former 
or  to  some  equally  desirable  position,  to  lead  a  new 
and  better  life.  The  dangers  and  temptations  of  the 
"Street"  are,  however,  too  real  and  terrible  to  be 
studied  other  than  in  actuality,  and  the  fall  of 
hundreds  of  previously  honest  young  men  owing 
to  easily  remedied  conditions  should  teach  its 
lesson,  not  only  to  their  comrades,  but  to  their 
employers  as  well.  The  ball  and  chain,  quite  as 
often  as  repentance  and  forgiveness,  ends  their 
experience. 

No  young  man  takes  a  position  in  a  banking- 
house  with  the  deliberate  intention  of  becoming  an 
embezzler.  He  knows  precisely,  as  well  as  does  the 
reader,  that  if  he  listens  to  the  whisper  of  tempta- 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

tion  he  is  lost — and  so  does  his  employer.  Yet  the 
employer,  who  would  hold  himself  remiss  if  he 
allowed  his  little  boy  to  have  the  run  of  the  jam- 
closet  and  then  discovered  that  the  latter' s  lips 
bore  evidence  of  petty  larceny,  or  would  regard 
himself  as  almost  criminally  negligent  if  he  placed 
a  priceless  pearl  necklace  where  an  ignorant  chim- 
ney-sweep might  fall  under  the  hypnotism  of  its 
shimmer,  will  calmly  allow  a  condition  of  things  in 
his  own  brokerage  or  banking  office  where  a  fifteen- 
dollars-a-week  clerk  may  have  free  access  to  a 
million  dollars'  worth  of  negotiable  securities,  and 
even  encourage  the  latter  by  occasional  "sure" 
tips  to  take  a  flyer  in  the  market. 

It  is  a  deplorable  fact  that  the  officers  of  certain 
companies  occasionally  "unload"  undesirable  se- 
curities upon  their  employees,  and,  in  order  to  boom 
or  create  a  "movement"  in  a  certain  stock,  will 
induce  the  persons  under  their  control  to  purchase 
it.  It  would  be  a  rare  case  in  which  a  clerk  who 
valued  his  situation  would  refuse  to  take  a  few 
shares  in  an  enterprise  which  the  head  of  the  firm 
was  fathering.  Of  course,  such  occurrences  are 
the  exceptions,  but  there  are  plenty  of  houses  not 
far  from  Wall  Street  where  the  partners  know  that 
their  clerks  and  messengers  are  "playing  the 
market,"  and  exert  not  the  slightest  influence  to 
stop  them.  When  these  men  find  that  they  and 

190 


A  Study  in  Finance 

their  customers,  and  not  the  clerks  and  messen- 
gers, are  paying  the  loss  accounts  of  the  latter,  they 
are  very  much  distressed,  and  tell  the  District 
Attorney,  with  regret,  that  only  by  sending  such 
wicked  and  treacherous  persons  to  State's  prison 
can  similar  dishonesty  be  prevented. 

Not  long  ago  the  writer  became  acquainted  with 
a  young  man  who,  as  loan  clerk  in  a  trust  com- 
pany, had  misappropriated  a  large  amount  of  se- 
curities and  had  pleaded  guilty  to  the  crime  of 
grand  larceny  in  the  first  degree.  He  was  awaiting 
sentence,  and  in  connection  therewith  it  became 
necessary  to  examine  into  the  conditions  prevail- 
ing generally  in  the  financial  district.  His  story  is 
already  public  property,  for  the  case  attracted 
wide  attention  in  the  daily  press;  but,  inasmuch 
as  the  writer's  object  is  to  point  a  moral  rather 
than  adorn  a  tale,  the  culprit's  name  and  the  name 
of  the  company  with  which  he  was  connected  need 
not  be  given. 

He  is  now  serving  a  term  in  State's  prison  and  is, 
the  writer  believes,  sincerely  repentant  and  deter- 
mined to  make  a  man  of  himself  upon  his  release. 
For  present  purposes  let  him  be  called  John  Smith. 
He  was  born  in  New  York  City,  in  surroundings 
rather  better  than  the  average.  His  family  were 
persons  of  good  education  and  his  home  was  a  com- 
fortable and  happy  one.  From  childhood  he  re- 

191 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

ceived  thorough  religious  instruction  and  was  al- 
ways a  straightforward,  honest  and  obedient  boy. 
His  father,  having  concluded  from  observation 
that  the  shortest  route  to  success  lay  in  financial 
enterprise,  secured  a  place  in  a  broker's  office  for 
his  son  after  the  latter's  graduation  from  the  high 
school.  John  began  at  the  bottom  and  gradually 
worked  up  to  the  position  of  assistant  loan  clerk  in 
a  big  trust  company.  This  took  fifteen  years  of 
hard  work. 

From  the  day  that  he  started  in  filling  inkwells 
and  cleaning  out  ticker  baskets,  he  saw  fortunes 
made  and  lost  in  a  twinkling.  He  learned  that 
the  chief  business  of  a  broker  is  acting  as  go- 
between  for  persons  who  are  trying  to  sell  what 
they  do  not  own  to  others  who  have  not  the  money 
to  pay  for  what  they  buy.  And  he  saw  hundreds  of 
such  persons  grow  rich  on  these  fictitious  transac- 
tions. He  also  saw  others  "wiped  out,"  but  they 
cheerfully  went  through  bankruptcy  and  began 
again,  many  of  them  achieving  wealth  on  their 
second  or  third  attempt.  He  was  earning  five  dol- 
lars a  week  and  getting  his  lunch  at  a  "  vegetarian 
health  restaurant"  for  fifteen  cents.  The  broker, 
for  whom  he  ran  errands,  gave  away  thirty-five- 
cent  cigars  to  his  customers  and  had  an  elaborate 
luncheon  served  in  the  office  daily  to  a  dozen  or 
more  of  the  elect.  John  knew  one  boy  of  about  his 

192 


A  Study  in  Finance 

own  age,  who,  having  made  a  successful  turn,  be- 
gan as  a  trader  and  cleaned  up  a  hundred  thousand 
dollars  in  a  rising  market  the  first  year.  That  was 
better  than  the  cleaning  up  John  was  used  to. 
But  he  was  a  sensible  boy  and  had  made  up  his 
mind  to  succeed  in  a  legitimate  fashion.  Gradu- 
ally he  saved  a  few  hundred  dollars  and,  acting  on 
the  knowledge  he  had  gained  in  his  business, 
bought  two  or  three  shares  in  a  security  which 
quickly  advanced  in  value  and  almost  doubled  his 
money.  The  next  time  as  well  fortune  favored 
him,  and  he  soon  had  a  comfortable  nest-egg- 
enough  to  warrant  his  feeling  reasonably  secure 
in  the  event  of  accident  or  sickness. 

He  had  worked  faithfully,  had  given  great  satis- 
faction to  his  employers,  and  presently  had  a  cleri- 
cal position  in  a  prominent  trust  company  offered 
to  him.  It  seemed  an  advance.  The  salary  was 
larger,  even  if  absurdly  small,  and  he  gladly  ac- 
cepted the  place. 

Shortly  after  this  he  had  his  first  experience  in 
real  finance.  The  president  of  the  company  sent 
for  him — the  reader  will  remember  that  this  is  a 
true  story — and  the  boy  entered  his  private  office 
and  came  into  the  august  presence  of  the  magnate. 
This  man  is  to-day  what  is  commonly  known  as  a 
"power"  in  Wall  Street. 

"My  boy,"  said  the  president,  "you  have  been 
193 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

doing  very  well.  I  have  noticed  the  excellence  of 
your  work.  I  want  to  commend  you." 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  John  modestly,  expect- 
ing to  hear  that  his  salary  was  to  be  raised. 

"Yes,"  continued  the  great  man.  "And  I  want 
you  to  have  an  interest  in  the  business." 

The  blood  rushed  to  John's  head  and  face. 

"Thank  you  very  much,"  he  gasped. 

"  I  have  allotted  you  five  shares  in  the  trust  com- 
pany," said  the  president.  "If  you  take  them  up 
and  carry  them  you  will  feel  that  you  have  a  real 
connection  with  the  house  and  it  will  net  you  a 
handsome  return.  Have  you  any  money  ?" 

It  so  happened  that  at  this  time  John's  savings 
were  invested  in  a  few  bonds  of  an  old  and  con- 
servatively managed  railroad.  His  heart  fell.  He 
didn't  want  to  buy  any  bank  stock. 

"No,"  he  answered.  "My  salary  is  small 
enough  and  I  need  it  all.  I  don't  save  any  money." 

"Oh,  well,"  said  the  magnate,  "I  will  try  and 
fix  it  up  for  you.  I  will  arrange  for  a  loan  with  the 

Bank  on  the  stock.  Remember,  I'm  doing 

this  to  help  you.  That  is  all.  You  may  go  back 
to  your  books." 

Next  day  John  was  informed  that  he  had  bought 

five  shares  of Trust  Company  stock  in  the 

neighborhood  of  three  hundred,  and  he  signed  a 
note  for  one  thousand  four  hundred  and  twenty- 

194 


A  Study  in  Finance 

five  dollars,  and  indorsed  the  stock  over  to  the 
bank  from  which  the  money  had  been  borrowed 
for  him.  The  stock  almost  immediately  dropped 
over  fifty  points.  John  paid  the  interest  on  the 
note  out  of  his  salary,  and  the  dividends,  as  fast 
as  they  were  declared,  went  to  extinguish  the  body 
of  the  loan.  Some  time  afterward  he  learned  that 
he  had  bought  the  stock  from  the  magnate  him- 
self. He  never  received  any  benefit  from  it,  for 
the  stock  was  sold  to  cover  the  note,  and  John  was 
obliged  to  make  up  the  difference.  He  also  dis- 
covered that  ten  or  fifteen  other  employees  had 
been  given  a  similar  opportunity  by  their  gener- 
ous employer  at  about  the  same  time.  John,  in 
prison,  says  it  was  a  scheme  to  keep  fifty  or  a  hun- 
dred shares  where  it  could  easily  be  controlled  by 
the  president,  without  risk  to  himself,  in  case  of 
need.  Of  course,  he  may  be  wrong.  At  any  rate, 
he  feels  bitterly  now  toward  the  big  men  who  are 
at  large  while  he  is  in  jail. 

John  continued  to  keep  up  with  the  acquaint- 
ances formed  during  his  years  in  the  broker's 
office,  many  of  whom  had  started  littfe  businesses 
of  their  own  and  had  done  well.  Part  of  their 
stock-in-trade  was  to  appear  prosperous  and  they 
took  John  out  to  lunch,  and  told  him  what  a  fine 
fellow  he  was,  and  gave  him  sure  tips.  But  John 
had  grown  "wise."  He  had  had  all  the  chances 

195 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

of  that  sort  he  wanted,  and  from  a  bigger  man 
than  any  of  them.  He  ate  their  lunches  and  in- 
vited them  in  return.  Then  he  economized  for  a 
day  or  two  to  even  up.  He  was  not  prosperous 
himself,  but  he  did  not  accept  favors  without  re- 
paying them. 

One  thing  he  observed  and  noted  carefully — 
every  man  he  knew  who  had  begun  a  brokerage 
business  and  kept  sober,  who  attended  to  business 
and  did  not  speculate,  made  money  and  plenty  of  it. 
He  knew  one  young  firm  which  cleared  up  fifteen 
thousand  in  commissions  at  the  end  of  the  second 
year.  That  looked  good  to  him,  and  he  knew, 
besides,  that  he  was  sober  and  attended  to  busi- 
ness. He  made  inquiries  and  learned  that  one 
could  start  in,  if  one  were  modest  in  one's  preten- 
sions, for  two  thousand  five  hundred  dollars. 
That  would  pay  office  rent  and  keep  things  going 
until  the  commissions  began  to  come  in.  He 
started  to  look  around  for  some  other  young  man 
who  could  put  up  the  money  in  consideration  of 
John's  contributing  the  experience.  But  all  the 
men  he  knew  had  experience  without  money. 

Then  by  chance  he  met  a  young  fellow  of  bright 
and  agreeable  personality  whom  we  shall  call 
Prescott.  The  latter  was  five  or  six  years  older 
than  John,  had  had  a  large  experience  in  broker- 
age houses  in  another  city,  and  had  come  to  New 

196 


A  Study  in  Finance 

York  to  promote  the  interests  of  a  certain  copper 
company.  John  had  progressed  and  was  now 
assistant  loan  clerk  of  one  of  the  biggest  trust  com- 
panies in  the  city,  which  also  happened  to  be  trans- 
fer agent  for  the  copper  company.  Thus  John 
had  constantly  to  handle  its  certificates.  Prescott 
said  it  was  a  wonderful  thing — that  some  of  the 
keenest  men  in  the  Street  were  in  it,  and,  although 
it  was  a  curb  stock,  strongly  advised  his  new  friend 
to  buy  all  he  could  of  it.  He  assured  John  that, 
although  he  was  admittedly  interested  in  booming 
the  stock,  he  was  confident  that  before  long  it 
would  sell  at  four  times  its  present  quotation. 

Meantime  the  stock,  which  had  been  listed  at 
2j,  began  to  go  rapidly  up.  Word  went  around 
the  trust  company  that  it  was  a  great  purchase 
anywhere  below  10,  and  John,  as  well  as  the 
other  boys  employed  in  the  company,  got  together 
what  money  he  could  and  began  to  buy  it.  It  con- 
tinued to  go  up — they  had  unconsciously  assisted 
it  in  its  ascent — and  they  bought  more.  John 
purchased  seventy-five  shares — all  the  way  up  to 
8  and  9.  One  of  his  friends  took  eight  hundred. 
Then  it  dropped  out  of  sight.  They  hadn't  time  to 
get  out,  and  John,  in  prison,  has  his  yet.  But  he 
still  had  faith  in  Prescott,  for  he  liked  him  and  be- 
lieved in  his  business  capacity. 

The  stock  "operation"  over,  Prescott  began  to 
197 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

prospect  for  something  new,  and  suggested  to 
John  that  they  form  a  brokerage  house  under  the 
latter's  name.  John  was  to  be  president  at  "a 
fixed  salary."  It  sounded  very  grand.  His  duties 
at  the  trust  company  began  to  seem  picayune. 
Moreover,  his  loss  in  copper  had  depressed  him 
and  he  wanted  to  recoup,  if  he  could.  But  how  to 
get  the  two  thousand  five  hundred  dollars  neces- 
sary to  start  in  business  ?  Prescott  pleaded  pov- 
erty, yet  talked  constantly  of  the  ease  with  which 
a  fortune  might  be  made  if  they  could  only  once 
"get  in  right."  It  was  a  period  of  increased  divi- 
dends, of  stock-jobbing  operations  of  enormous 
magnitude,  of  "  fifty-point  movements,"  when  the 
lucky  purchaser  of  only  a  hundred  shares  of  some 
inconspicuous  railroad  sometimes  found  that  he 
could  sell  out  next  week  with  five  thousand  dollars' 
profit.  The  air  seemed  full  of  money.  It  ap- 
peared to  rain  banknotes  and  stock  certificates. 

In  the  "loan  cage"  at  the  trust  company  John 
handled  daily  millions  in  securities,  a  great  part  of 
which  were  negotiable.  When  almost  everybody 
was  so  rich  he  wondered  why  any  one  remained 
poor.  Two  or  three  men  of  his  own  age  gave  up 
their  jobs  in  other  concerns  and  became  traders, 
while  another  opened  an  office  of  his  own.  John 
was  told  that  they  had  acted  on  "good  informa- 
tion," had  bought  a  few  hundred  shares  of  Union 

198 


A  Study  in  Finance 

Pacific,  and  were  now  comfortably  fixed.  He 
would  have  been  glad  to  buy,  but  copper  had  left 
him  without  anything  to  buy  with. 

One  day  Prescott  took  him  out  to  lunch  and 
confided  to  him  that  one  of  the  big  speculators  had 
tipped  him  off  to  buy  cotton,  since  there  was  going 
to  be  a  failure  in  the  crop.  It  was  practically  a 
sure  thing.  Two  thousand  dollars'  margin  would 
buy  enough  cotton  to  start  them  in  business,  even 
if  the  rise  was  only  a  very  small  one. 

"Why  don't  you  borrow  a  couple  of  bonds?" 
asked  Prescott. 

"Borrow  from  whom  ?"  inquired  John. 

"Why,  from  some  customer  of  the  trust  com- 
pany." 

"No  one  would  lend  them  to  me,"  answered 
John. 

"Well,  borrow  them,  anyhow.  They  would 
never  know  about  it,  and  you  could  put  them  back 
as  soon  as  we  closed  the  account,"  suggested 
Prescott. 

John  was  shocked,  and  said  so. 

"You  are  easy,"  said  his  comrade.  "Don't  you 
know  that  the  trust  companies  do  it  themselves  all 
the  time  ?  The  presidents  of  the  railroads  use 
the  holdings  of  their  companies  as  collateral. 
Even  the  banks  use  their  deposits  for  trading. 

Didn't  old dump  a  lot  of  rotten  stuff  on  you  ? 

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True  Stones  of  Crime 

Why  don't  you  get  even  ?  Let  me  tell  you  some- 
thing. Fully  one-half  of  the  men  who  are  now 
successful  financiers  got  their  start  by  putting  up 
as  margin  securities  deposited  with  them.  No  one 
ever  knew  the  difference,  and  now  they  are  on 
their  feet.  If  you  took  two  bonds  overnight  you 
might  put  them  back  in  the  morning.  Every  one 
does  it.  It's  part  of  the  game." 

"But  suppose  we  lost?"  asked  John. 

"You  can't,"  said  Prescott.  "Cotton  is  sure  to 
go  up.  It's  throwing  away  the  chance  of  your 
life." 

John  said  he  couldn't  do  such  a  thing,  but  when 
he  returned  to  the  office  the  cashier  told  him  that 
a  merger  had  been  planned  between  their  company 
and  another — a  larger  one.  John  knew  what  that 
meant  well  enough — half  the  clerks  would  lose 
their  positions.  He  was  getting  thirty-five  dollars 
a  week,  had  married  a  young  wife,  and,  as  he  had 
told  the  magnate,  he  "needed  it  all."  That  night 
as  he  put  the  securities  from  the  "loan  cage"  back 
in  the  vault  the  bonds  burned  his  fingers.  They 
were  lying  around  loose,  no  good  to  anybody,  and 
only  two  of  them,  overnight  maybe,  would  make 
him  independent  of  salaries  and  mergers — a  free 
man  and  his  own  master. 

The  vault  was  in  the  basement  just  below  the 
loan  cage.  It  was  some  twenty  feet  long  and  ten 

200 


A  Study  in  Finance 

wide.  There  were  three  tiers  of  boxes  with  double 
combination  doors.  In  the  extreme  left-hand 
corner  was  the  "loan  box."  Near  it  were  two 
other  boxes  in  which  the  securities  of  certain  cus- 
tomers on  deposit  were  kept.  John  had  individual 
access  to  the  loan  box  and  the  two  others — one  of 
which  contained  the  collateral  which  secured  loans 
that  were  practically  permanent.  He  thus  had 
within  his  control  negotiable  bonds  of  over  a  mil- 
lion dollars  in  value.  The  securities  were  in  piles, 
strapped  with  rubber  bands,  and  bore  slips  on 
which  were  written  the  names  of  the  owners. 
Every  morning  John  carried  up  all  these  piles  to 
the  loan  cage — except  the  securities  on  deposit. 
At  the  end  of  the  day  he  carried  all  back  himself 
and  tossed  them  into  the  boxes.  When  the  interest 
coupons  on  the  deposited  bonds  had  to  be  cut  he 
carried  these,  also,  upstairs.  At  night  the  vault 
was  secured  by  two  doors,  one  with  a  combination 
lock  and  the  other  with  a  time  lock.  It  was  as  safe 
as  human  ingenuity  could  make  it.  By  day  it  had 
only  a  steel-wire  gate  which  could  be  opened  with 
a  key.  No  attendant  was  stationed  at  the  door. 
If  John  wanted  to  get  in,  all  he  had  to  do  was  to 
ask  the  person  who  had  the  key  to  open  it.  The 
reason  John  had  the  combination  to  these  different 
boxes  was  in  order  to  save  the  loan  clerk  the  trouble 
of  going  downstairs  to  get  the  collateral  himself. 

201 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Next  day  when  John  went  out  to  lunch  he  put 
two  bonds  belonging  to  a  -customer  in  his  pocket. 
He  did  not  intend  to  steal  them  or  even  to  borrow 
them.  It  was  done  almost  automatically.  His  will 
seemed  subjugated  to  the  idea  that  they  were  to 
all  intents  and  purposes  his  bonds  to  do  as  he  liked 
with.  He  wanted  the  feeling  of  bonds-in-his- 
pocket.  As  he  walked  along  the  street  to  the  res- 
taurant, it  seemed  quite  natural  that  they  should  be 
there.  They  were  nearly  as  safe  with  him  as  lying 
around  loose  in  the  cage  or  chucked  into  a  box  in 
the  vault.  Prescott  joined  him,  full  of  his  new 
idea  that  cotton  was  going  to  jump  overnight. 

"If  you  only  had  a  couple  of  bonds,"  he  sighed. 

Then  somehow  John's  legs  and  arms  grew  weak. 
He  seemed  to  disintegrate  internally.  He  tried  to 
pull  himself  together,  but  he  had  lost  control  of  his 
muscles.  He  became  a  dual  personality.  His  own 
John  heard  Prescott's  John  say  quite  naturally: 

"  I  can  let  you  have  two  bonds,  but  mind  we  get 
them  back  to-morrow,  or  anyhow  the  day  after." 

John's  John  felt  the  other  John  slip  the  two 
American  Navigation  45  under  the  table  and  Pres- 
cott's fingers  close  upon  them.  Then  came  a 
period  of  hypnotic  paralysis.  The  flywheel  of  his 
will-power  hung  on  a  dead  centre.  Almost  in- 
stantly he  became  himself  again. 

"Give  'em  back,"  he  whispered  hoarsely.     "I 

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A  Study  in  Finance 

didn't  mean  you  should  keep  them,"  and  he 
reached  anxiously  across  the  table.  But  Prescott 
was  on  his  feet,  half-way  toward  the  door. 

"Don't  be  a  fool,  Smith,"  he  laughed.  "What's 
the  matter  with  you  ?  It's  a  cinch.  Go  back  and 
forget  it."  He  shot  out  of  the  door  and  down  the 
street. 

John  followed,  dazed  and  trembling  with  horror 
at  what  he  had  done.  He  went  back  to  the  cage 
and  remained  the  rest  of  the  day  in  terror  lest  the 
broker  who  owned  the  two  bonds  should  pay  off 
his  loan.  But  at  the  same  time  he  had  quickly 
made  up  his  mind  what  he  should  do  in  that  event. 
There  was  more  than  one  loan  secured  by  American 
Navigation  45.  He  loosened  a  couple  in  one  of  the 
other  piles.  If  the  first  broker  came  in  he  would 
take  two  bonds  from  one  of  these.  But  the  broker 
did  not  come  in. 

That  night  John  wandered  the  streets  till  nearly 
daylight.  He  saw  himself  arrested,  ruined,  in 
prison.  Utterly  fagged  next  morning,  he  called  up 
Prescott  on  the  telephone  and  begged  him  to  re- 
turn the  bonds.  Prescott  laughed  at  his  fears  and 
assured  him  that  everything  was  all  right.  Cotton 
was  sure  to  go  up.  An  hour  later  the  broker  who 
owned  the  bonds  came  in  and  took  up  his  loan,  and 
John  removed  two  American  Navigation  45  from 
another  bundle  and  handed  them  to  the  loan  clerk. 

203 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Of  course,  the  numbers  on  the  bonds  were  not  the 
same,  but  few  persons  would  notice  a  little  thing 
like  that,  even  if  they  kept  a  record  of  it.  They 
had  the  bonds — that  was  the  main  thing. 

Once  more  John  rushed  to  the  'phone,  told 
Prescott  what  had  occurred  and  besought  him  for 
the  bonds. 

"It's  too  late  now,"  growled  Prescott.  "Cotton 
has  gone  down.  I  could  only  get  one  back  at  the 
most.  We  had  better  stand  pat  and  get  out  on  the 
next  bulge." 

John  was  by  this  time  almost  hysterical.  The 
perspiration  broke  out  on  his  forehead  every  now 
and  then,  and  he  shuddered  as  he  counted  his  se- 
curities and  entered  up  his  figures.  If  cotton 
should  go  down  some  more!  That  was  the  hide- 
ous possibility.  They  would  have  to  put  up  more 
margin,  and  then ! 

Down  in  the  vault  where  the  depositors'  bonds 
were  kept  were  two  piles  of  Overland  45.  One 
contained  about  two  hundred  and  the  other  nearly 
six  hundred  bonds.  The  par  value  of  these  nego- 
tiable securities  alone  was  nearly  eight  hundred 
thousand  dollars.  Twice  a  year  John  cut  the  cou- 
pons off  of  them.  Each  pile  was  marked  with  the 
owner's  name.  They  were  never  called  for,  and  it 
appeared  that  these  customers  intended  to  keep 
them  there  permanently.  John,  realizing  that  the 

204 


A  Study  in  Finance 

chances  of  detection  were  smaller,  removed  two 
bonds  from  the  pile  of  two  hundred  Overlands  and 
substituted  them  with  Prescott  for  the  two  Navi- 
gation 45. 

Then  cotton  went  down  with  a  slump.  Pres- 
cott did  not  wait  even  to  telephone.  He  came  him- 
self to  the  trust  company  and  told  John  that  they 
needed  two  more  bonds  for  additional  margin  to 
protect  their  loan.  But  he  said  it  was  merely  tem- 
porary, and  that  they  had  better  even  up  by  buy- 
ing some  more  cotton.  John  went  down  into  the 
vault  and  came  back  with  four  more  Overland  45 
bonds  under  his  coat.  He  was  in  for  it  now  and 
might  as  well  be  hung  for  a  sheep  as  for  a  lamb. 
He  was  beginning  to  get  used  to  the  idea  of  being 
a  thief.  He  was,  to  be  sure,  wretchedly  unhappy, 
but  he  was  experiencing  the  excitement  of  trying 
to  dodge  Fate  until  Fortune  looked  his  way.  Cot- 
ton still  went  down.  It  never  occurred  to  him 
that  Prescott  perhaps  had  not  bought  all  the  cot- 
ton. Now  that  he  is  in  prison  he  thinks  maybe 
Prescott  didn't.  But  he  kept  going  down  into  the 
vault  and  bringing  up  more  bonds,  and,  getting 
reckless,  bought  more  cotton — quantities  of  it.  In 
a  month  sixty  bonds  were  gone  from  the  pile  of 
two  hundred.  John,  a  nervous  wreck,  almost 
laughed,  grimly,  at  the  joke  of  his  being  short 
sixty  bonds! 

205 


True  Stories  of  Crime 


At  home  they  thought  he  was  getting  run  down. 

His  wife !     He  was  so  kind  and  thoughtful 

that  she  had  never  been  so  happy.  It  made  her 
fearful  that  he  had  some  fatal  disease  and  knew  he 
was  going  to  die.  Up  at  the  bank  John  made  a 
separate  bundle  of  sixty  bonds  out  of  the  pile  of 
six  hundred  so  that  he  could  substitute  them  for 
those  first  taken  if  the  owner  called  for  them.  It 
was  not  likely  that  both  owners  would  call  for 
their  bonds  on  the  same  day,  so  that  he  was  prac- 
tically safe  until  one  or  the  other  had  withdrawn 
his  deposit. 

About  this  time  the  special  accountants  came 
around  to  make  their  annual  investigation.  It  was 
apparently  done  in  the  regular  and  usual  way.  One 
examiner  stood  inside  the  vault  and  another  out- 
side, surrounded  by  four  or  five  assistants.  They 
"investigated"  the  loans.  John  brought  them  out 
in  armfuls  and  the  accountants  checked  them  off 
and  sent  them  back.  When  John  brought  out  the 
one  hundred  and  forty  bonds  left  in  the  bundle  of 
two  hundred  Overland  45  he  placed  on  top  of 
them  the  pile  of  sixty  bonds  taken  from  the  other 
bundle  of  six  hundred.  Then  he  took  them 
back,  shifted  over  the  sixty  and  brought  out  the 
bundle  of  six  hundred  Overland  45  made  up  in 
part  of  the  same  bonds.  It  was  the  easiest  thing 
going.  The  experts  simply  counted  the  sixty 

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A  Study  in  Finance 

bonds  twice — and  John  had  the  sixty  bonds  (or 
Prescott  had  them)  down  the  street.  Later  the 
same  firm  of  "experts"  certified  to  the  presence  of 
three  hundred  thousand  dollars  of  missing  bonds, 
counting  the  same  bundle,  not  only  twice,  but 
five  and  six  times!  You  see,  Prescott's  John  had 
grown  wise  in  his  generation. 

After  that  he  felt  reasonably  secure.  It  did 
seem  almost  unbelievable  that  such  a  situation 
could  exist,  but  it  was,  nevertheless,  a  fact  that  it 
did.  He  expected  momentarily  that  his  theft 
would  be  detected  and  that  he  would  be  thrown 
into  prison,  and  the  fear  of  the  actual  arrest,  the 
moment  of  public  ignominy,  the  shock  and  agony 
of  his  wife  and  family,  were  what  drove  him  sleep- 
less into  the  streets,  and  every  evening  to  the 
theatres  to  try  to  forget  what  must  inevitably  come; 
but  the  fact  that  he  had  "gone  wrong,"  that  he 
was  a  thief,  that  he  had  betrayed  his  trust,  had 
lost  its  edge.  He  now  thought  no  more  of  shoving 
a  package  of  bonds  into  his  overcoat  pocket  than 
he  did  of  taking  that  garment  down  from  its  peg 
behind  the  door.  He  knew  from  inquiry  that  men 
who  stole  a  few  hundred  dollars,  and  were  caught, 
usually  got  as  long  a  term  as  those  who  stole  thou- 
sands. If  he  stole  one  bond  he  was  just  as  likely 
to  get  ten  years  in  State's  prison  as  if  he  stole 
fifty — so  he  stole  fifty,  and  when  they  were  wiped 

207 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

out  he  stole  fifty  more — and,  well,  if  the  reader  is 
interested  he  will  learn  before  the  end  of  the  story 
just  what  John  did  steal. 

Somehow,  Prescott' s  speculations  never  suc- 
ceeded. Occasionally  they  would  make  a  good 
turn  and  get  a  few  bonds  back,  but  the  next  week 
there  would  be  a  new  fiasco,  and  John  would  have 
to  visit  the  Overland  45  again.  That  performance 
of  the  accountants  had  given  him  a  huge  contempt 
for  bankers  and  banking.  He  knew  that  if  he 
wanted  to  he  could  grab  up  a  million  any  day  and 
walk  off  with  it,  but  he  didn't  want  to.  All  he  de- 
sired now  was  to  get  back  to  where  he  was  before. 
All  the  speculation  was  in  the  hands  of  Prescott, 
and  Prescott  never  seemed  worried  in  the  least. 
He  called  on  John  almost  daily  for  what  extra 
bonds  were  needed  as  additional  collateral,  and 
John  took  his  word  absolutely  as  to  the  result  of 
the  transactions.  He  could  not  do  otherwise,  for 
one  word  from  Prescott  would  have  ruined  him. 

Before  long  the  pile  of  two  hundred  Overland 
45  was  gone.  So  was  a  large  quantity  of  other  se- 
curities, for  John  and  Prescott  had  dropped  cot- 
ton and  gone  plunging  into  the  stock  market. 
Here,  however,  they  had  no  better  success  than 
before.  Of  course,  a  difficulty  arose  when  the 
interest  on  the  Overland  45  came  due.  The 
coupons  had  to  be  cut  by  some  one  in  the  bank, 

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A  Study  in  Finance 

and  although  John  usually  cut  them  he  did  not 
always  do  so.  Sometimes  the  loan  clerk  himself 
would  take  a  hand,  and  call  for  a  particular  lot  of 
bonds.  John,  however,  was  now  fertile  in  de- 
vices. The  owner  of  the  larger  pile  of  six  hundred 
bonds  usually  wrote  to  have  his  coupons  cut  about 
the  twenty-seventh  of  April.  John  would  make  up 
a  collection  of  six  hundred  bonds  of  the  same  sort, 
carry  them  up  and  cut  the  coupons  in  the  loan 
cage.  The  other  man  generally  sent  in  a  draft  for 
his  interest  on  the  second  or  third  of  May.  But 
now  the  bonds  were  away,  scattered  all  over  the 
Street.  So  John  started  a  new  operation  to  get  the 
bonds  back  and  straighten  out  the  coupon  tangle. 
He  substituted  with  the  brokers  an  equal  number 
of  bonds  of  other  companies,  the  interest  upon 
which  was  not  yet  due.  There  was  a  large  block 
of  Electric  55  and  Cumberland  45  which  served  his 
purpose  admirably,  and  thus  he  kept  up  with  the 
game.  When  the  coupons  became  due  on  the 
latter  he  carried  back  the  first.  It  kept  him  and 
Prescott  busy  most  of  the  time  juggling  securities 
—at  least  John  knew  he  was  kept  busy,  and  Pres- 
cott claimed  to  be  equally  so. 

There  were  many  loans  of  brokers  and  others 
all  secured  by  the  same  sort  of  collateral.  Most  of 
these  John  appropriated.  When  it  was  necessary 
to  check  off  the  loans,  John,  having  retained 

209 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

enough  of  the  same  kind  of  bonds  to  cover  the 
largest  loan,  would  bring  up  the  same  bundle  time 
after  time  with  a  different  name  upon  it.  If  one 
of  the  customers  wanted  to  pay  off  a  loan  and  his 
bonds  were  gone  he  would  be  given  some  one 
else's  collateral.  Apparently  the  only  thing  that 
was  necessary  was  to  have  enough  of  each  kind  of 
security  on  hand  to  cover  the  largest  loan  on  the 
books  at  any  given  time. 

Once,  when  the  examiners  were  at  work  on  the 
vault,  John  had  to  make  up  one  hundred  thousand 
dollars  in  Overland  45  or  55  from  the  different  small 
loans  in  the  loan  vault  and  put  them  in  a  package 
in  the  deposit  vault  in  order  to  make  it  appear  that 
certain  depositors'  bonds  were  all  there. 

The  most  extraordinary  performance  of  all  was 
when,  upon  one  of  the  annual  examinations,  John 
covered  the  absence  of  over  fifty  bonds  in  the  col- 
lateral covering  a  certain  loan  by  merely  shoving 
the  balance  of  the  securities  into  the  back  of  the 
vault,  so  that  it  was  not  examined  at  all.  He  had 
taken  these  bonds  to  substitute  for  others  in  dif- 
ferent brokers'  offices,  and  it  so  happened  that  there 
were  no  similar  securities  in  the  building;  thus  the 
deficiency  could  not  be  covered  up  even  by  John's 
expert  sleight  of  hand.  Of  course,  if  there  had 
been  other  bonds  of  the  same  kind  in  another  vault 
it  would  have  been  a  simple  matter  to  substitute 

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A  Study  in  Finance 

them.  But  there  were  not.  So  John  pushed  the 
remaining  one  hundred  and  fifty  bonds  into  a  dark 
corner  of  the  vault  and  awaited  the  discovery  with 
throbbing  pulses.  Yet,  strange  to  relate,  these 
watchdogs  of  finance,  did  not  see  the  bonds  which 
John  had  hidden,  and  did  not  discover  that  any- 
thing was  wrong,  since,  for  purposes  of  its  own, 
the  bank  had  neglected  to  make  any  record  of  the 
loan  in  question.  It  would  really  have  been  safer 
for  John  if  he  had  taken  the  whole  pile,  but  then 
he  did  not  know  that  the  accountants  were  going 
to  do  their  business  in  any  such  crazy  fashion. 
The  whole  thing  came  to  seem  a  sort  of  joke  to 
John.  He  never  took  any  bonds  for  his  own  per- 
sonal use.  He  gave  everything  to  Prescott,  and 
he  rarely,  if  ever,  saw  Prescott  except  to  hand  him 
securities. 

One  day  Prescott  walked  right  into  the  bank 
itself  and  John  gave  him  one  hundred  and  sixty- 
five  bonds,  which  he  stuffed  under  his  overcoat 
and  carried  away.  Remember  that  this  is  a  fact. 

The  thing,  which  began  in  August,  1905,  dragged 
over  through  the  following  year  and  on  into  1907. 
John  weathered  two  examinations  by  the  ac- 
countants, the  last  being  in  October,  1906,  when 
they  certified  that  the  company  was  absolutely 
"O.  K."  and  everything  intact.  On  that  par- 
ticular day  John  had  over  three  hundred  thousand 

211 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

dollars  in  Overland  45  and  $s  scattered  over  the 
Street. 

In  the  first  six  months  they  lost  one  hundred 
thousand  dollars  in  cotton.  Then  they  played 
both  sides  of  the  market  in  stocks  and  got  badly 
bitten  as  bears  in  the  temporary  bull  market  in 
the  autumn  of  1906,  selling  Union  Pacific  at  165, 
which  afterward  went  to  190,  Northern  Pacific  at 
185,  which  went  to  200,  etc.,  etc.  Then  they  shifted 
their  position,  became  bulls  and  went  long  of  stock 
just  at  the  beginning  of  the  present  slump.  They 
bought  Reading  at  n 8,  American  Smelters  at  126, 
Pennsylvania  at  130,  Union  at  145,  and  Northern 
Pacific  at  180.  At  one  time  John  had  five  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  dollars  in  bonds  out  of  the 
vaults. 

The  thing  might  have  been  going  on  still  had  it 
not  been  for  the  fact  that  the  anticipated  merger 
between  John's  company  and  another  was  put 
through  and  a  new  vault  in  a  new  building  pre- 
pared to  receive  the  securities.  Of  course,  on  such 
an  occasion  a  complete  examination  would  be  made 
of  all  the  securities  and  there  would  be  practically 
no  chance  to  deceive  the  accountants.  Moreover, 
a  part  of  the  securities  had  actually  been  moved 
when  the  worst  slump  came  and  they  needed  more. 
It  was  obvious  that  the  jig  was  up.  A  few  more 
days  and  John  knew  that  the  gyves  would  be  upon 

212 


A  Study  in  Finance 

his  wrists.  Prescott  and  he  took  an  account  of  the 
stock  they  had  lost  and  went  into  committee  on 
ways  and  means.  Neither  had  any  desire  to  run 
away.  Wall  Street  was  the  breath  of  life  to  them. 
Prescott  said  that  the  best  thing  to  do  was  to  take 
enough  more  to  "stand  off"  the  company.  He 
cited  a  case  in  Boston,  where  a  clerk  who  was 
badly  "in"  was  advised  by  his  lawyer  to  take  a 
hundred  and  twenty-five  thousand  dollars  more. 
Then  the  lawyer  dickered  with  the  bank  and 
brought  it  to  terms.  The  lawyer  got  twenty-five 
thousand  dollars,  the  bank  got  the  rest,  and  the 
thief  was  let  go.  Prescott  said  they  ought  to  get 
away  with  enough  more  to  make  the  bank's  loss  a 
million.  He  thought  that  would  make  them  see 
what  was  the  wise  thing  to  do.  Prescott  also  said 
he  would  try  to  get  a  lawyer  who  could  bring  some 
pressure  to  bear  on  the  officials  of  the  company. 
It  would  be  a  rather  unpleasant  situation  to  have 
brought  to  the  attention  of  the  State  Superintend- 
ent of  Banking.  John  agreed  to  get  the  additional 
securities  and  turn  them  over  to  Prescott.  Un- 
fortunately, almost  everything  had  by  this  time 
been  moved  into  the  new  vault,  and  all  John  could 
get  was  a  stock  certificate  for  fifteen  hundred  rail- 
road shares,  standing  in  his  own  name,  and  seven- 
ty-five thousand  dollars  in  notes.  These  he  gave 
to  Prescott,  thus  increasing  the  amount  stolen  from 

213 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

the  bank  without  discovery  to  between  six  and 
seven  hundred  thousand  dollars.  This  was  on  the 
day  before  the  actuaries  were  to  make  their  inves- 
tigation. Knowing  that  his  arrest  was  now  only  a 
question  of  time,  John,  about  eleven  o'clock  on  the 
following  morning,  left  the  trust  company  for  the 
last  time.  He  was  in  telephonic  communication 
with  Prescott,  who,  in  turn,  was  in  touch  with 
their  lawyer.  Unfortunately,  the  president  of  the 
company  had  gone  out  of  town  over  Sunday,  so 
that  again  their  plans  went  awry. 

For  nearly  two  years  John  had  not  known  an 
hour  devoid  of  haunting  fear.  From  a  cheerful 
and  contented  youth  he  had  become  despondent, 
taciturn  and  nervous.  He  was  the  same  affection- 
ate husband  and  attentive  son  as  before,  and  his 
general  characteristics  remained  precisely  the 
same.  He  was  scrupulous  to  a  penny  in  every 
other  department  of  his  life,  and  undoubtedly 
would  have  felt  the  same  pricks  of  conscience  had 
he  been  guilty  of  any  other  act  of  dishonesty.  The 
affair  at  the  bank  was  a  thing  apart.  The  embez- 
zler of  six  hundred  thousand  dollars  was  not  John 
at  all,  but  a  separate  personality  wearing  John's 
clothes  and  bearing  his  name.  He  perceived 
clearly  the  enormity  of  his  offense,  but,  because  he 
was  the  same  John  in  every  other  respect,  he  had 
a  feeling  that  somehow  the  fact  that  he  had  done 

214 


A  Study  in  Finance 

the  thing  was  purely  fortuitous — in  other  words, 
that  the  bonds  had  to  be  taken,  were  going  to  be 
taken  anyway,  and  that -Fate  had  simply  elected 
him  to  take  them.  Surely  he  had  not  wanted  the 
bonds — had  had  no  intention  of  stealing  half  a 
million  dollars,  and,  in  short,  was  not  the  kind  of 
a  man  who  would  steal  half  a  million  dollars. 
Each  night  he  tossed,  sleepless,  till  the  light  stole 
in  through  the  shutters.  At  every  corner  on  his 
way  uptown  he  glanced  over  his  shoulder  behind 
him.  The  front  doorbell  never  rang  that  his  mus- 
cles did  not  become  rigid  and  his  heart  almost  stop 
beating.  If  he  went  to  a  theatre  or  upon  an  excur- 
sion he  passed  the  time  wondering  if  the  next  day 
he  would  still  be  a  free  man.  In  short,  he  paid  in 
full  in  physical  misery  and  mental  anxiety  and 
wretchedness  for  the  real  moral  obliquity  of  his 
crime.  The  knowledge  of  this  maddened  him  for 
what  was  coming.  Yet  he  realized  that  he  had 
stolen  half  a  million  dollars,  and  that  justice  de- 
manded that  he  should  be  punished  for  it. 

After  leaving  the  bank  John  called  up  Prescott 
and  learned  that  the  plan  to  adjust  matters  with 
the  president  had  miscarried  by  reason  of  the  lat- 
ter's  absence.  The  two  then  met  in  a  saloon,  and 
here  it  was  arranged  that  John  should  call  up  the 
loan  clerk  and  tell  him  that  something  would  be 
found  to  be  wrong  at  the  bank,  but  that  nothing 

215 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

had  better  be  said  about  it  until  the  following 
Monday  morning,  when  the  president  would  re- 
turn. The  loan  clerk,  however,  refused  to  talk 
with  him  and  hung  up  the  receiver.  John  had  no- 
where to  go,  for  he  dared  not  return  home,  and 
spent  the  afternoon  until  six  o'clock  riding  in 
street  cars  and  sitting  in  saloons.  At  that  hour  he 
again  communicated  with  Prescott,  who  said  that 
he  had  secured  rooms  for  him  and  his  wife  at  a 
certain  hotel,  where  they  might  stay  until  matters 
could  be  fixed  up.  John  arranged  to  meet  his  wife 
at  Forty-second  Street  with  Prescott  and  conduct 
her  to  the  hotel.  As  Fate  decreed,  the  loan  clerk 
came  out  of  the  subway  at  precisely  the  same  time, 
saw  them  together  and  followed  them.  Meantime 
a  hurry  call  had  been  sent  for  the  president,  who 
had  returned  to  the  city.  John,  fully  aware  that 
the  end  had  come,  went  to  bed  at  the  hotel,  and, 
for  the  first  time  since  the  day  he  had  taken  the 
bonds  two  years  before,  slept  soundly.  At  three 
the  next  morning  there  came  a  knock  at  the  door. 
His  wife  awakened  him  and  John  opened  it.  As 
he  did  so  a  policeman  forced  his  way  in,  and  the 
loan  clerk,  who  stood  in  the  corridor  just  behind 
him,  exclaimed  theatrically,  "Officer,  there  is 
your  man!" 

John  is  now  in  prison,  serving  out  the  sentence 
which  the  court  believed  it  necessary  to  inflict 

216 


A  Study  in  Finance 

upon  him  as  a  warning  to  others.  Prescott  is  also 
serving  a  term  at  hard  labor — a  sentence  somewhat 
longer  than  John's.  The  trust  company  took  up 
their  accounts, 'paid  the  losses  of  the  luckless  pair, 
and,  owing  to  a  rise  in  prices  which  came  too  late 
to  benefit  the  latter,  escaped  with  the  compara- 
tively trifling  loss  of  a  little  over  one  hundred 
thousand  dollars.  At  once  every  banking  house 
and  trust  company  upon  the  Street  looked  to  its 
system  of  checks  upon  the  honesty  of  its  employ- 
ees, and  took  precautions  which  should  have  been 
taken  long  before.  The  story  was  a  nine  days' 
wonder.  Then  Union  Pacific  dropped  twenty 
points  more,  the  tide  of  finance  closed  over  the 
heads  of  John  and  Prescott,  and  they  were  for- 
gotten. 

Had  the  company,  instead  of  putting  itself  at 
the  mercy  of  a  thirty-five-dollar-a-week  clerk, 
placed  double  combinations  on  the  loan  and  de- 
posit vaults,  and  employed  two  men,  one  to  act  as 
a  check  upon  the  other,  to  handle  its  securities,  or 
had  it  merely  adopted  the  even  simpler  expedient 
of  requiring  an  officer  of  the  company  to  be  present 
when  any  securities  were  to  be  removed  from  the 
vaults,  John  would  probably  not  now  be  in  jail. 
It  would  seem  that  it  would  not  be  a  difficult  or 
complicated  matter  to  employ  a  doorkeeper,  who 
did  not  have  access  himself,  to  stand  at  the  door 

217 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

of  the  vault  and  check  off  all  securities  removed 
therefrom  or  returned  thereto.  An  officer  of  the 
bank  should  personally  see  that  the  loans  carried 
up  to  the  cage  in  the  morning  were  properly  re- 
turned to  the  vaults  at  night  and  secured  with  a 
time  lock.  Such  a  precaution  would  not  cost  the 
stockholders  a  tenth  of  one  per  cent,  in  dividends. 

It  is  a  trite  saying  that  an  ounce  of  prevention 
is  worth  a  pound  of  cure.  But  this  is  as  true,  in 
the  case  of  financial  institutions  at  least,  from  the 
point  of  view  of  the  employe  as  of  the  company. 
It  is  an  ingenious  expedient  to  insure  one's  self  with 
a  "  fidelity  corporation  "  against  the  possible  defal- 
cations of  one's  servants,  and  doubtless  certain 
risks  can  only  be  covered  in  some  such  fashion. 
These  methods  are  eminently  proper  so  far  as  they 
go,  but  they,  unfortunately,  do  not  serve  the  public 
purpose  of  protecting  the  weak  from  undue  and 
unnecessary  temptation.  Banks  and  trust  com- 
panies are  prone  to  rely  on  the  fact  that  most  pecu- 
lations are  easily  detected  and  severely  punished, 
but  the  public  interest  demands  that  all  business, 
State,  municipal  and  private,  should  be  so  con- 
ducted that  dishonesty  may  not  only  be  punished, 
but  prevented. 

A  builder  who  "took  a  chance"  on  the  strength 
of  a  girder  would  have  small  credit  in  his  profes- 
sion. A  good  bridge  is  one  which  will  bear  the 

218 


A  Study  in  Finance 

strain — not  only  of  the  pedestrian,  but  of  the  ele- 
phant. A  deluge  or  an  earthquake  may  occur  and 
the  bridge  may  tumble,  but  next  time  it  is  built 
stronger  and  better.  Thus  science  progresses  and 
the  public  interest  is  subserved.  A  driver  who 
overloads  his  beast  is  regarded  as  a  fool  or  a  brute. 
Perhaps  such  names  are  too  harsh  for  those  who 
overload  the  moral  backbone  of  an  inexperienced 
subordinate.  Surely  the  fault  is  not  all  on  one 
side.  While  there  are  no  formulas  to  calculate  the 
resiliency  of  human  character,  we  may  demand  the 
same  prudence  on  the  part  of  the  officers  of  finan- 
cial institutions  as  we  do  from  nursemaids,  lum- 
bermen and  manufacturers  of  explosives.  Though 
we  may  have  confidence  in  the  rectitude  of  our 
fellows,  we  have  no  right  to  ignore  the  limitations 
and  weaknesses  of  mankind.  It  would  not  out- 
rage the  principles  of  justice  if  one  who  placed 
needless  and  disproportionate  strain  upon  the 
morals  of  another  were  himself  regarded  as  an 
accessory  to  the  crime. 


219 


THE  "DUG  DE  NEVERS" 


o 


VIII 


The   'Due  de  Nevers" 

"And  God  gives  to  every  man 
The  virtue,  temper,  understanding,  taste, 
That  lifts  him  into  life,  and  lets  him  fall 
Just  in  the  niche  he  was  ordained  to  fill." 

—"The  Task"— COWPER. 

NE  morning  there  lay  on  my  desk  a  note 
finely  written  in  pencil  and  dated: 


TOMBS  PRISON. 
MONSIEUR: 

Will  you  be  so  gracious  as  to  extend  to  the  undersigned 
the  courtesy  of  a  private  interview  in  your  office  ?  I 
have  a  communication  of  the  highest  importance  to  make 
to  you. 

Respectfully, 
CHARLES  JULIUS  FRANCIS  DE  NEVERS. 

Across  the  street  in  the  courtyard  the  prisoners 
were  taking  their  daily  exercise.  Two  by  two  they 
marched  slowly  around  the  enclosure  in  the  centre 
of  which  a  small  bed  of  geraniums  struggled 
bravely  in  mortal  combat  with  the  dust  and  grime 

223 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

of  Centre  Street.  Some  of  the  prisoners  walked 
with  heads  erect  and  shoulders  thrown  back,  others 
slouched  along  with  their  arms  dangling  and  their 
chins  resting  upon  their  chests.  When  one  of  them 
failed  to -keep  up  with  the  rest,  a  keeper,  who  stood 
in  the  shade  by  a  bit  of  ivy  in  a  corner  of  the 
wall,  got  after  him.  Somehow  the  note  on  the  desk 
did  not  seem  to  fit  any  one  of  the  gentry  whom  I 
could  see  so  distinctly  from  my  window.  The 
name,  too,  did  not  have  the  customary  Tombs 
sound — De  Nevers  ?  De  Nevalre — I  repeated  it 
slowly  to  myself  with  varying  accent.  It  seemed 
as  though  I  had  known  the  name  before.  It 
carried  with  it  a  suggestion  of  the  novels  of  Stan- 
ley J.  Weyman,  of  books  on  old  towns  and  the 
chateaux  and  cathedrals  of  France.  I  wondered 
who  the  devil  Charles  Julius  Francis  de  Nevers 
could  be. 

Of  course,  if  one  answered  all  the  letters  one 
gets  from  the  Tombs  it  would  keep  a  secretary 
busy  most  of  the  working  hours  of  the  day,  and 
if  one  acceded  to  all  the  various  requests  the  pris- 
oners make  to  interview  them  personally  or  to 
see  their  fathers,  mothers,  sisters,  brothers,  sweet- 
hearts and  wives,  a  prosecutor  might  as  well 
run  an  intelligence  office  and  be  done  with  it. 
But  as  I  re-read  the  note  I  began  to  have  a  sneak- 
ing feeling  of  curiosity  to  see  what  Charles  Julius 

224 


The  "Due  de  Nevers " 

Francis  de  Nevers  looked  like,  so  I  departed 
from  the  usual  rule  of  my  office,  rang  for  a  mes- 
senger and  directed  him  to  ascertain  the  full 
name  of  the  prisoner  from  whom  the  note  had 
come,  the  crime  with  which  he  was  charged,  and 
the  date  of  his  incarceration,  also  to  supply  me  at 
once  with  copies  of  the  indictment  and  the  com- 
plaint; then  I  instructed  him  to  have  De  Nevers 
brought  over  as  soon  as  he  could  be  got  into  shape. 

I  had  almost  forgotten  that  I  was  expecting  a 
visitor  when,  a  couple  of  hours  later,  an  undersized 
deputy-sheriff  entered  my  office  and  reported  that 
he  had  a  prisoner  in  his  custody  for  whom  I  had 
sent  to  the  Tombs.  Glancing  up  from  my  desk  I 
saw  standing  behind  his  keeper  a  tall  and  distin- 
guished-looking man  in  fashionably  cut  garments, 
whose  well  shaped  head  and  narrow  face,  thin 
aquiline  nose,  and  carefully  trimmed  pointed  beard 
seemed  to  bespeak  somewhat  different  antece- 
dents from  those  of  the  ordinary  occupant  of  a  cell 
in  the  City  Prison.  I  should  have  instinctively 
risen  from  my  chair  and  offered  my  aristocratic 
looking  visitor  a  chair  had  not  the  keeper  uncon- 
sciously brought  me  to  a  realization  of  my  true 
position  by  remarking: 

"Say,  Counsellor,  I  guess  while  you're  talking 
to  his  nibs  I'll  step  out  into  the  hall  and  take  a 
smoke." 

225 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

"Certainly,"  said  I,  glad  to  be  rid  of  him,  "I 
will  be  responsible  for  the — er — prisoner." 

Then,  as  the  keeper  hesitated  in  putting  his 
suggestion  into  execution,  I  reached  into  the  upper 
right-hand  drawer  of  my  desk,  produced  two  of 
what  are  commonly  known  in  the  parlance  of  the 
Criminal  Courts  Building  as  "cigars"  and  handed 
them  to  him. 

"Well,"  said  I,  after  the  keeper  had  departed 
closing  the  door  behind  him  and  leaving  the  vis- 
itor standing  in  the  middle  of  the  office,  "  I  have 
sent  for  you  as  you  requested  and  shall  be  glad  to 
hear  anything  you  have  to  say.  Of  course  any 
communication  which  you  may  see  fit  to  make 
to  me  is  voluntary  and,  in  the  event  for  your 
trial  for — er — any  crime  with  which  you  may  be 
charged,  may  be  used  against  you."  I  had  a 
certain  feeling  of  embarrassment  in  making  this 
customary  declaration  since  the  whole  idea  of  this 
person  being  a  criminal  was  so  incongruous  as  to 
put  a  heavy  strain  on  one's  credulity.  However, 
I  recalled  that  a  certain  distinguished  Englishman 
of  letters  has  declared  "  that  there  is  no  essential 
incongruity  between  crime  and  culture."  He  ac- 
knowledged my  remark  with  a  slight  smile  of  half- 
amused  deprecation  and  with  a  courteous  bow 
took  the  seat  to  which  I  motioned  him. 

"I  wish  to  thank  you,"  he  said  in  excellent  Eng- 
226 


The    'Due  de  Nevers" 

lish  marked  by  the  slightest  possible  suggestion 
of  a  foreign  accent,  "  for  your  exceeding  courtesy 
in  responding  so  quickly  to  my  request.  I  am 
aware,"  he  added,  "that  it  is  unusual  for  prisoners 
to  seek  interviews  with  the — what  shall  I  say— 
juge  d*  instruction,  as  we  call  him,  but,"  he  added 
with  a  smile,  "I  think  you  will  find  that  mine  is 
an  unusual  affair." 

I  had  already  begun  to  think  so,  and  reaching 
to  the  upper  drawer  on  the  left-hand  side  of  my 
desk,  I  produced  from  the  box  reserved  for  judges, 
prominent  members  of  the  bar,  borough  presi- 
dents, commissioners  of  departments  and  distin- 
guished foreigners,  a  Havana  of  the  variety  known 
in  our  purlieus  as  a  "good  cigar,"  and  tendered 
the  same  to  him. 

"Ah,"  he  said,  "many  thanks,  merely  non,  I  do 
not  smoke  the  cigar.  M'sieu'  perhaps  has  a 
cigarette  ?  M'sieu'  will  pardon  me  if  I  say  that 
this  is  the  first  act  of  kindness  which  has  been  ac- 
corded to  me  since  my  incarceration  three  weeks 
ago." 

Somewhere  I  found  a  box  of  cigarettes,  one  of 
which  he  removed,  gracefully  holding  it  between 
fingers  which  I  noticed  were  singularly  white  and 
delicate,  and  lighting  it  with  the  air  of  a  diplomat 
at  an  international  conference. 

(t  You  can  hardly  appreciate,"  he  ventured,  "the 
227 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

humiliation  to  which  I,  an  officer  and  a  gentleman 
of  France,  have  been  subjected." 

I  lighted  the  cigar  which  he  had  declined  and 
with  mingled  feelings  of  embarrassment,  distrust 
and  curiosity  inquired  if  his  name  Was  Charles 
Julius  Francis  de  Nevers.  I  wish  it  were  possible 
to  describe  the  precise  look  which  flashed  across 
his  face  as  he  answered  my  question. 

"That  is  my  name,"  he  said,  "or  at  least  rather, 
I  am  Charles  Julius  Francis,  and  I  am  of  Nevers. 
May  I  speak  confidentially  ?  Were  my  family  to 
be  aware  of  my  present  situation  they  would  never 
recover  from  the  humiliation  and  disgrace  con- 
nected with  it." 

"Certainly,"  said  I,  "anything  which  you  may 
tell  me  which  you  wish  to  be  kept  confidential  I 
will  treat  as  such,  provided,  of  course,  that  what 
you  tell  me  is  the  truth." 

"You  shall  hear  nothing  else,"  he  replied. 
Then  leaning  back  in  his  chair  he  said  simply 
and  with  great  dignity,  "I  am  by  direct  inheri- 
tance today  the  Due  de  Nevers,  my  father,  the 
last  duke,  having  died  in  the  month  of  February, 

1905." 

Any  such  announcement  would  ordinarily  have 
filled  me  with  amusement,  but  that  the  gentleman 
sitting  before  me  should  declare  himself  to  be  a 
duke  or  even  a  prince  seemed  entirely  natural. 

228 


The  '  *  Due  de  Nevers  " 

"Indeed!"  said  I,  unable  to  think  of  any  more 
appropriate  remark. 

"Yes,"  said  De  Nevers,  "and  M'sieu'  is  natu- 
rally surprised  that  one  of  my  distinguished  posi- 
tion should  be  now  a  tenant  of  an  American  jail. 
But  if  M'sieu'  will  do  me  the  honor  of  listening  for 
a  few  moments  I  will  explain  my  present  extraor- 
dinary predicament.  I  am  Charles  Julius  Francois, 
eldest  son  of  the  late  Oscar  Odon,  Due  de  Nevers, 
Grand  Commander  of  the  Legion  of  Honor,  and 
Knight  of  the  Garter.  I  was  born  in  Paris  in  the 
year  1860  at  148  Rue  Champs  Elysee;  my  mother, 
the  dowager  duchess,  is  now  residing  at  the  Cha- 
teau de  Nevers  in  the  Province  of  Nievre  in 
France.  My  sister  Jeanne  married  Prince  Henry 
of.  Aremberg,  and  now  lives  in  Brussells  at  the 
Palais  d'Aremberg,  situated  at  the  corner  of  the 
Rue  de  Regence  near  the  Palais  de  Justice.  My 
sister  Louise,  the  Countess  of  Kilkenny,  is  living  in 
Ireland.  My  sister  Camille  married  the  Marquis 
of  Londonderry  and  is  residing  in  London  at  the 
present  time.  My  sister  Evelyn  married  the  Earl 
of  Dudley  and  is  living  in  Dublin.  I  have  one 
other  sister,  Marie,  who  is  with  my  mother.  My 
brother,  Count  Andre  de  Nevers  is  at  present  Na- 
val Attache  at  Berlin.  My  brother  Fernand  is 
an  officer  of  artillery  stationed  in  Madagascar, 
and  my  youngest  brother  Marcel  is  also  an  offi- 

229 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

cer  of  artillery  attached  to  the  8th  Regiment  in 
Nancy.  I  make  this  statement  by  way  of  intro- 
duction in  order  that  you  may  understand  fully 
my  situation.  During  my  childhood  I  had  an 
English  tutor  in  Paris,  and  when  I  reached  the 
age  of  ten  years  I  was  sent  by  my  father  to  the 
College  Louis  le  Grand  where  I  took  the  course  of 
Science  and  Letters  and  graduated  from  the  Lycee 
with  the  degree  of  Bachelor  on  the  5th  of  August, 
1877.  Having  passed  my  examination  for  the 
Polytechnic  I  remained  there  two  years,  and  on 
my  graduation  received  a  commission  as  Sous- 
Lieutenant  of  Engineers,  and  immediately  entered 
the  Application  School  at  Fontainebleau,  where  I 
was  graduated  in  1881  as  Lieutenant  of  Engineers 
and  assigned  to  the  First  Regiment  of  Engineers 
at  Versailles " 

De  Nevers  paused  and  exhaled  the  cigarette 
smoke. 

"M'sieu'  will  pardon  me  if  I  go  into  detail  for 
only  in  that  way  will  he  be  convinced  of  the  accu- 
racy of  what  I  am  telling  him." 

"  Pray,  go  on,"said  I.  "  If  what  you  tell  me  is 
true  your  case  is  extraordinary  indeed." 

"  My  first  act  of  service,"  continued  De  Nevers, 
"was  on  the  loth  of  August  when  I  was  sent  to 
Tonkin.  I  will  not  trouble  you  with  the  details  of 
my  voyage  on  the  transport  to  China,  but  will  sim- 

230 


The  "  Due  de  Nevers  '3 

piy  state  that  I  was  wounded  in  the  engagement 
at  Yung  Chuang  on  the  yth  of  November  of  the 
same  year  and  had  the  distinction  of  receiving  the 
Cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  therefor.  I  was  im- 
mediately furloughed  back  to  France,  where  I 
entered  the  Superior  School  of  War  and  took  my 
Staff  Major  brevet.  At  the  same  time  I  seized  the 
opportunity  to  follow  the  course  of  the  Sorbonne 
and  secured  the  additional  degree  of  Doctor  of 
Science.  I  had  received  an  excellent  education  in 
my  youth  and  always  had  a  taste  for  study,  which 
I  have  taken  pains  to  pursue  in  whatever  part  of 
the  world  I  happened  to  be  stationed.  As  a  result 
I  am  able  to  converse  with  considerable  fluency  in 
English,  as  perhaps  you  have  already  observed,  as 
well  as  in  Spanish,  Italian,  German,  Russian, 
Arabic,  and,  to  a  considerable  extent,  in  Japanese. 
"In  1883  I  was  sent  to  Berlin  as  Military  At- 
tache, but  was  subsequently  recalled  because  I  had 
violated  the  rules  of  international  etiquette  by 
fighting  three  duels  with  German  officers.  The 
Ambassador  at  this  time  was  Charles  de  Courcel. 
You  will  understand  that  there  was  no  disgrace 
connected  with  my  recall,  but  the  necessity  of  de- 
fending my  honor  was  incompatible  with  the  rules 
of  the  service,  and  after  fifteen  months  in  Berlin  I 
was  remanded  to  Versailles  with  the  rank  of  First 
Lieutenant,  under  Colonel  Quinivet.  Here  I  pur- 

231 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

sued  my  studies  and  was  then  ordered  to  the  Sou- 
dan, whence,  after  being  wounded,  I  was  sent  to 
Senegal.  Here  I  acted  as  Governor  of  the  City  of 
St.  Louis.  As  you  are  doubtless  aware,  the  climate 
of  Senegal  is  exceedingly  unhealthy.  I  fell  ill  with 
a  fever  and  was  obliged  to  return  to  France  where 
I  was  assigned  to  the  office  of  the  General  Staff 
Major  in  Paris.  At  the  opening  of  the  war  with 
Dahomey  in  1892,  I  was  sent  in  command  of  the 
Engineers  of  the  Corps  Expeditional,  and  on  the 
1 7th  of  November  of  that  year  was  severely 
wounded  at  Dakar  in  Dahomey,  having  received 
a  spear  cut  through  the  lungs.  On  this  occasion  I 
had  the  distinction  of  being  promoted  as  Major  of 
Engineers  and  was  created  an  Officer  of  the  Legion 
of  Honor  on  the  battle  field.  The  wound  in  my 
lungs  was  of  such  a  serious  character  that  Colonel 
Dodds  sent  me  back  once  more  to  France  on  fur- 
lough, and  President  Carnot  was  kind  enough  to 
give  me  his  personal  commendation  for  my  ser- 
vices. 

"  I  was  now  thirty-three  years  old  and  had 
already  attained  high  rank  in  my  profession.  I 
had  had  opportunity  to  pursue  studies  in  chemis- 
try, medicine  and  science,  and  my  only  interest 
was  in 'the  service  of  my  country  and  in  qualifying 
myself  for  my  future  duties.  My  life  up  to  that 
time  had  been  uniformly  happy;  I  was  the  eldest 

232 


The  "  Due  de  Nevers ': 

son  and  beloved  both  of  my  father  and  mother. 
My  social  position  gave  me  the  entree  to  the  best 
of  society  wherever  I  happened  to  be.  As  yet, 
however,  I  had  never  been  in  love.  At  this  time 
occurred  the  affair  which  in  a  measure  changed 
my  career.  The  wound  in  my  lungs  was  slow  in 
healing,  and  at  the  earnest  invitation  of  my  sister, 
Lady  Londonderry,  I  went  to  London.  At  that 
time  she  was  living  in  Belgravia  Square.  It  was 
here  I  met  my  first  wife." 

De  Nevers  paused.  The  cigarette  had  gone 
out.  For  the  first  time  he  seemed  to  lose  perfect 
control  of  himself.  I  busied  myself  with  some 
papers  until  he  should  have  regained  his  self  pos- 
session. 

"You  will  understand,"  he  said  in  a  few  moments, 
"  these  things  are  not  governed  by  law  and  statute. 
The  woman  with  whom  I  fell  in  love  and  who  was 
in  every  respect  the  equal  in  intellectual  attain- 
ments, beauty  and  charm  of  manner  of  my  own 
people,  was  the  nursery  governess  in  my  sister's 
household.  She  returned  my  affection  and  agreed 
to  marry  me.  The  proposed  marriage  excited  the 
utmost  antipathy  on  the  part  of  my  family;  my 
fiancee  was  dismissed  from  my  sister's  household, 
and  I  returned  to  Paris  with  the  intention  of  en- 
deavoring by  every  means  in  my  power  to  induce 
my  father  to  permit  me  to  wed  the  woman  I  loved. 

233 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

It  is  doubtless  difficult  for  M'sieu'  to  appreciate 
the  position  of  a  French  officer.  In  America — Ah 
— America  is  free,  one  can  marry  the  woman  one 
loves,  but  in  France  no  officer  can  marry  without 
the  consent  of  the  Minister  of  War  and  of  the 
President  of  the  Republic;  and  more  than  that  he 
cannot  marry  unless  his  intended  wife  possesses  a 
dowry  of  at  least  fifty  thousand  francs  which  must 
be  deposited  with  the  Minister  of  War  for  invest- 


ment." 


"  In  spite  of  the  fact  that  I  enjoyed  the  confi- 
dence and  friendship  of  President  Carnot  the  lat- 
ter, at  my  father's  request,  refused  me  permission 
to  marry.  There  was  no  choice  left  for  me  but  to 
resign  my  commission,  and  this  I  did.  I  returned 
to  England  and  was  married  at  St.  Thomas's 
Church,  London,  on  the  2ist  of  June,  1893. 

"  My  education  as  an  engineer  had  been  of  the 
most  highly  technical  and  thorough  character,  and 
I  had  every  reason  to  believe  that  in  America  I 
could  earn  a  comfortable  living.  My  wife  and  I, 
therefore,  sailed  for  America  immediately  after 
our  marriage.  I  first  secured  a  position  in  some 
iron  works  in  South  Boston,  and  for  a  time  lived 
happily.  A  boy,  Oscar,  named  after  my  father, 
was  born  to  us  while  we  were  living  in  the  town  of 
Winchester  near  Boston.  Another  son  was  born 
a  year  later  in  the  same  place,  and  still  a  third  in 

234 


The  6t  Due  de  Nevers  " 

Pittsburgh,  where  I  had  gone  to  assume  the  posi- 
tion of  general  foreman  of  the  Homestead  Steel 
Works  and  assistant  master  mechanic  of  the  Car- 
negie Steel  Company.  I  rapidly  secured  the  con- 
fidence of  my  employers  and  was  sent  upon  sev- 
eral occasions  to  study  new  processes  in  different 
parts  of  the  country.  During  one  of  my  vacations 
we  returned  to  England  and  visited  my  wife's  peo- 
ple, who  lived  in  Manchester;  here  she  died  on 
the  iyth  of  June,  1901." 

De  Nevers  paused  again  and  it  was  some  mo- 
ments before  he  continued. 

"  After  the  death  of  my  wife  my  father  expressed 
himself  as  ready  for  a  reconciliation,  but  although 
this  took  place  I  had  not  the  heart  to  remain  in 
France.  I  liked  America  and  had  attained  dis- 
tinction in  my  profession.  I  therefore  expressed 
my  intention  of  returning  to  continue  my  career  as 
an  engineer,  but  at  the  earnest  solicitation  of  my 
father,  left  my  three  children  with  my  parents. 
They  are  now  living  at  the  chateau  of  my  mother 
at  Nievre. 

"  I  was  sent  to  Chicago  to  study  a  new  blast  fur- 
nace, and  two  years  later,  when  Mr.  Schwab  organ- 
ized the  Russo-American  Company  at  Mariopool, 
South  Siberia,  he  offered  me  the  position  of  general 
manager,  which  I  accepted.  Here  I  remained 
until  November,  1904,  when  all  the  American  en- 

235 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

gineers  were  arrested  and  imprisoned  on  the  order 
of  General  Kozoubsky  of  the  Russian  Engineers, 
who  at  the  same  time  shot  and  murdered  my  as- 
sistant, Thomas  D.  McDonald,  for  refusing  to 
allow  him  to  remove  pig  iron  from  the  storehouse 
without  giving  a  receipt  for  it.  Ambassador 
McCormick  secured  our  immediate  release,  and 
we  returned  to  the  States.  M'sieu'  has  no  idea  of 
the  power  of  these  Russian  officers.  The  murder 
of  my  assistant  was  of  the  most  brutal  character. 
Kozoubsky  came  to  my  office  and  demanded  the 
iron,  but  having  secured  it,  refused  to  sign  the  re- 
ceipt which  McDonald  presented  to  him.  McDon- 
ald said:  'You  shall  not  remove  the  iron  if  you 
do  not  sign  the  receipt.'  As  he  spoke  the  words  the 
General  drew  his  revolver  and  shot  him  down  like 
a  dog. 

"I  returned  to  America  in  January,  1905,  and 
have  since  then  been  doing  work  as  a  consulting 
engineer.  Last  January  I  visited  my  parents  in 
Paris  at  their  home  at  148  Champs  Elysee.  You 
have  doubtless  seen  the  mansion  with  its  two  gates 
and  black  railing  of  decorative  iron.  I  had  no 
sooner  returned  to  America  than  I  received  a  cable 
announcing  the  death  of  my  father." 

De  Nevers  removed  from  his  breast  pocket  a 
bundle  of  carefully  folded  papers  from  which  he 
produced  a  sheet  of  heavy  stationery  with  a  deep 

236 


The  "Due  de  Nevers'5 

border  of  mourning  and  a  large  black  cross  at  the 
top,  of  which  the  following  is  a  copy: 

MM.  Her  Grace  the  Duchess  Dowager  of  Nevers;  his 
Grace  the  Duke  Charles  J.  F.  of  Nevers  and  his  children 
Oscar,  Hilda  and  John;  their  Highnesses  the  Prince  and 
Princess  Henry  of  Aremberg;  Captain  the  Count  Andre 
of  Nevers;  Captain  the  Count  Fernand  of  Nevers;  the 
Earl  and  Countess  of  Kilkenny;  the  Marquis  and  Mar- 
chioness of  Londonderry;  the  Earl  and  Countess  of 
Dudley;  the  Countess  Marie  of  Nevers;  Lieutenant  the 
Count  Marcel  of  Nevers  have  the  sorrow  to  announce  the 
subite  death  at  the  family  seat  at  Nevers  (France),  of  His 
Grace  Oscar  Odon,  Duke  of  Nevers,  Grand  Commander 
of  the  Legion  of  Honor,  Knight  of  the  Garter.  Their 
husband,  father,  grandfather  and  uncle  beloved. 

Masonic  burial  shall  take  place  at  Nevers  on  Tues- 
day, February  21,  1905. 

New  York,  February  20,  1905. 

U.  S.  A. 

The  announcement  was  carefully  engraved  and 
was  of  an  expensive  character,  and  I  read  it  with 
considerable  interest. 

"Does  M'sieu*  care  to  see  the  photographs  of 
my  family  ?  Here,"  producing  a  photograph  of  a 
gentleman  and  lady  and  a  group  of  children,  "is 
my  wife  with  the  three  children,  taken  in  London 
just  before  she  died." 

Another  group,  bearing  the  trade-mark  of  a  Pa- 
risian photographer,  exhibited  a  distinguished 
looking  man  surrounded  by  a  group  of  many  chil- 
dren of  varying  ages, 

237 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

"These,"  said  De  Nevers,  "are  my  father  and 
my  brothers  and  sisters." 

Then  came  photographs  of  Lady  Londonderry 
and  the  Earl  and  Countess  of  Dudley.  My  inter- 
est in  my  visitor's  story  had  for  the  moment  com- 
pletely driven  from  my  mind  the  real  object  of  the 
interview,  which,  ostensibly,  was  to  explain  the  rea- 
son for  his  incarceration.  His  straightforward  nar- 
rative carried  absolute  conviction  with  it;  that  he 
was  the  legitimate  Due  de  Nevers  I  accepted  with- 
out hesitation;  that  he  was  a  man  of  education,  cult- 
ure and  many  accomplishments,  was  self  evident. 

"You  have  had  an  extraordinary  career,"  I 
ventured. 

c<  Yes,"  he  replied,  "  it  has  been  a  life  of  action 
and  I  may  say  of  suffering.  Permit  me  to  show 
you  the  certificate  of  my  general  that  what  I  have 
told  you  is  accurate." 

And  De  Nevers  unfolded  from  his  pocket  a  docu- 
ment, bearing  a  seal  of  the  French  Ministry  of  War, 
which  read  as  follows: 

REPUBLIQUE  FRANCAISE 
MINISTERS  DE  LA  GUERRE 
CABINET  DU  MINISTERS 

No.  195  PARIS,  October  24,  1901. 

To  Whom  It  May  Concern: 

I,  George  Andre,  General  of  Division  of  Engineers, 
Minister  of  War  of  the  French  Republic,  certify  that 

238 


The  "  Due  de  Nevers  " 

the  Lieutenant  Colonel  Charles  Jules  Comte  Francois  de 
Nevers,  is  connected  with  the  French  Army,  since 
the  loth  day  of  September,  1877,  and  that  the  following 
is  a  true  copy  of  his  record : 

Born  in  Paris  the  loth  of  June,  1859. 

Graduated,  Bachelor  of  Sciences  and  of  Letters,  from 
the  Lycee,  Louis  le  Grand,  the  5th  of  August,  1877. 

Received  first  as  Chief  of  Promotion  of  the  National 
Polytechnic  School  of  France,  the  loth  of  September, 

1877. 

Graduated  with  the  greatest  distinction  from  the  above 
school  the  ist  of  September,  1879. 

Entered  at  the  Application  School  of  Military  Engi- 
neers at  Fontainebleau  as  Second  Lieutenant,  Chief  of 
Promotion  the  I5th  of  September,  1879. 

Graduated  as  Lieutenant  of  Engineers  with  great  dis- 
tinction, the  ist  of  August,  1881,  and  sent  to  the  Frist 
Regiment  of  Engineers  at  Versailles. 

Sent  to  Tonkin  the  ist  day  of  August,  1881. 

Wounded  at  Yung  Chuang  (Tonkin)  the  7th  of  Nov- 
ember, 1881. 

Inscribed  on  the  Golden  Book  of  the  French  Army  the 
loth  of  November,  1881. 

Made  Knight  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  the  loth  of  No- 
vember, 1 88 1. 

Wounded  at  Suai  Sing  the  4th  of  January,  1882. 

Sent  to  Switzerland  in  Mission  where  he  was  gradu- 
ated at  the  Zurich  Polytechnic  University  as  Mechanical 
Engineer,  1884. 

Sent  the  2nd  of  January,  1885,  to  Soudan. 

Wounded  there  twice. 

Made  Captain  of  Engineers  the  3rd  of  June,  1885. 

Called  back  to  France  the  6th  of  September,  1885, 
sent  in  Mission  in  Belgium,  where  he  was  graduated  as 

239 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Electrical  Engineer  from  the  Montefiore  University  at 
Liege.  Made  officer  of  Academy. 

Sent  in  Gabon,  the  and  of  May,  1887.  Wounded 
twice.  Constructed  there  the  Military  Railroad. 

Sent  to  Senegal  as  Commander  the  6th  of  July,  1888, 
to  organize  administration.  Wounded  once. 

Called  back  and  sent  to  Germany  the  7th  of  Decem- 
ber, 1889. 

Called  back  from  Germany  and  assigned  to  the  Creu- 
sot  as  Assistant  Chief  Engineer. 

Sent  to  Dahomey,  the  ist  of  January,  1891.  Wounded 
the  I9th  of  November,  1892,  at  Dahomey.  Made  Major 
of  Engineers  on  the  battle  field.  Made  Officer  of  the 
Legion  of  Honor,  on  the  battle  field. 

By  special  decision  of  the  Senate  and  the  Chamber  of 
Representatives  the  name  of  Commandant  Charles  Jules 
Comte  Francois  de  Nevers  is  embroidered  the  2ist  of 
November,  on  the  flag  of  the  Regiment  of  Engineers. 

Called  back  and  sent  to  Algeria,  the  3rd  of  January, 


Made  Ordinance  of  the  President  Carnot,  the  5th  of 
February,  1893. 

Sent  to  the  Creusot  the  ist  of  July,  1893,  as  director. 

Sent  to  Madagascar  the  2nd  of  April,  1894,  in  com- 
mand of  the  Engineers. 

Wounded  the  I2th  of  July,  1894,  at  Majungua. 

Made  Lieutenant  Colonel  of  Engineers  the  I2th  of 
July,  1894,  on  the  battle  field. 

Proposed  as  Commander  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  on 
the  same  date. 

Called  back  and  sent  as  Ordinance  Officer  of  the  Gen- 
eral in  Chief  in  Command  in  Algeria,  the  4th  of  March, 
1896. 

Sent  to  America  in  special  mission  to  the  Klondike  the 
7th  of  July,  1897. 

240 


The  "Due  de  Nevers" 

Put  on  disponsibility  Hors  Cadre  on  his  demand  the 
1st  of  November,  1897. 

Made  Honorary  Member  of  the  National  Defences. 
Commissioned  the  28th  of  January,  1898. 

Made  Honorary  Member  of  the  Commission  on  Rail- 
roads, Canals,  and  Harbors,  the  yth  of  July,  1899. 

Made  Honorary  Member  of  the  Commission  on  Bridges 
and  Highways  the  I4th  of  July,  1900. 

Made  Corresponding  Member  of  the  Academy  of  Sci- 
ences, the  I4th  of  July,  1901. 

Made  Commander  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  the  22nd  of 
October,  1901. 

I  will  say  further  that  the  Lieutenant  Colonel  Charles 
Jules  Comte  Francois  de  Nevers,  is  regarded  as  one 
of  our  best  and  most  loyal  officers,  that  he  has  the  good 
will  and  best  wishes  of  the  government  and  of  all  his 
fellow  officers,  and  is  considered  by  everybody  as  a  great 
worker  and  a  thoroughly  honest  man.  I  personally  will 
be  pleased  to  do  anything  in  my  power  to  help  him  in 
any  business  he  may  undertake,  and  can  recommend 
him  to  everybody  as  a  responsible  and  trustworthy  En- 
gineer, knowing  him  for  the  last  twenty-four  years. 

GEO.  ANDRE', 

ro     .,  Minister  of  War. 

[Seal] 

The  document  seemed  in  substance  merely  a 
repetition  of  what  De  Nevers  had  already  told 
me,  and  I  handed  it  back  to  him  satisfied  of  its 
correctness.  But  public  business  is  public  busi- 
ness, and  if  the  Due  de  Nevers  had  anything 
to  communicate  to  me  in  my  official  character  it 
was  time  for  him  to  do  so. 

"Well,  Duke/'  said  I,  not  knowing  very  well 
241 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

how  otherwise  to  address  him,  "do  you  desire  to 
communicate  anything  to  me  in  connection  with 
your  present  detention  in  the  Tombs  ?" 

"Ah,"  he  said  with  a  gesture  of  deprecation,  "I 
can  hardly  understand  that  myself.  Perhaps  M'sieu' 
has  the  papers  ?  Ah,  yes,  I  see  they  are  on  his  desk. 
M'sieu'  will  observe  that  I  am  accused  of  the  crime 
of — what  is  it  called  in  English  ?  Ah,  yes,  perjury, 
but  I  assure  M'sieu'  that  it  is  entirely  a  mistake." 

I  picked  up. the  indictment  and  found  that  the 
Grand  Jury  of  the  County  of  New  York  accused 
one  Charles  de  Nevers  of  the  crime  of  perjury 
committed  as  follows: 

That  one  William  Douglas  having  been  arrested  by 
William  W.  Crawford,  a  member  of  the  Police  force  of 
the  City  of  New  York,  upon  the  charge  of  having  violated 
the  motor  vehicle  law  of  the  State  of  New  York  [ordinance 
against  speeding]  he,  the  said  Charles  de  Nevers,  had 
then  and  there  offered  himself  to  go  bail  for  the  said 
Douglas,  and  did  sign  a  certain  written  undertaking 
called  a  bond  for  the  appearance  of  the  said  Douglas  be- 
fore the  Magistrate,  wherein  he  swore  that  he  owned  a 
certain  house  and  lot  situate  at  122  West  nyth  Street,  in 
the  County  of  New  York,  which  was  free  and  clear  of  all 
incumbrances  and  of  the  value  of  not  less  than  twenty 
thousand  dollars, 

WHEREAS  in  truth  and  in  fact  he  the  said  Charles  de 
Nevers  did  not  own  the  said  house  and  lot  which  did  not 
then  and  there  stand  in  the  name  of  him  the  said  Charles 
de  Nevers,  but  was  the  property  of  one  Helen  M.  Bent, 
and  so  recorded  in  the  Registry  of  Deeds. 

242 


The  "Due  de  Nevers '! 

Which,  said  the  grand  jury,  Charles  de  Nevers 
then  and  there  well  knew.  And  so  they  accused 
him  of  feloniously,  knowingly,  wilfully,  corruptly, 
and  falsely  committing  the  crime  of  perjury  against 
the  form  of  the  statute  in  such  cases  made  and 
provided,  and  against  the  peace  of  the  People  of 
the  State  of  New  York  and  their  dignity. 

And  this  they  did  over  the  signature  of  William 
Travers  Jerome,  District  Attorney. 

"How  did  this  happen  ?"  I  inquired,  hardly  be- 
lieving my  senses.  "Was  it  a  fact  that  you  made 
this  false  statement  to  the  Police  for  the  purpose 
of  securing  bail  for  Mr.  Douglas  ? " 

De  Nevers  leaned  forward  and  was  about  to 
answer  when  a  messenger  entered  the  room  and 
stated  that  I  was  wanted  in  the  court. 

"Another  time,  if  M'sieu'  will  permit  me,"  said 
he.  •  "I  have  much  to  thank  you  for.  If  M'sieu* 
will  give  me  another  hearing  it  shall  be  my  pleas- 
ure to  explain  fully." 

I  rose  and  summoned  the  keeper.  De  Nevers 
bowed  and  offered  his  hand,  which  I  took. 

"I  have  much  to  thank  you  for!"  he  repeated. 

As  I  hurried  out  of  the  room  I  encountered  the 
keeper  outside  the  door. 

"Say,  Counsellor,  what  sort  of  a  'con'  was  he 
throwin'  into  you  ? "  he  inquired  with  a  wink. 

De  Nevers  was  well  inside  my  office,  looking 
243 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

drearily" out  of  my  window  towards  the  courtyard 
in  the  Tombs  where  his  fellows  were  still  pursuing 
their  weary  march. 

"What  do  you  mean  ?"  I  asked. 

"Why,  who  did  his  nibs  tell  you  he  was  ?" 

"The  Due  de  Nevers,"  I  replied. 

"Say,"  said  O'Toole,  "you  don't  mean  you 
swallowed  that,  do  you  ?  Do  you  know  what  the 
feller  did  ?  Why,  one  afternoon  when  a  swell  guy 
and  his  girl  were  out  in  their  gas  wagon  a  mounted 
cop  in  the  park  pulls  them  in  and  takes  them  over 
to  the  57th  Street  Court.  Well,  just  as  me  friend 
is  taking  them  into  the  house  along  walks  this 
Charley  Nevers  wid  his  tall  silk  hat  and  pearl 
handle  cane,  wid  a  flower  in  his  buttonhole,  and 
his  black  coat  tails  dangling  around  his  heels,  just 
like  Boni  de  Castellane,  and  says  he,  'Officer,' 
says  he,  'may  I  inquire  what  for  you're  appre- 
hending this  gentleman  and  lady  ?'  says  he.  With 
that  me  friend  hands  him  out  some  strong  lan- 
guage for  buttin*  in,  and  Charley  is  so  much 
shocked  at  the  insult  to  himself  and  the  lady  that 
he  steps  in  before  the  Sergeant  and  offers  to  go 
bond  for  Douglas,  just  to  go  the  cop  one  better, 
givin'  the  Sergeant  the  same  line  of  drip  that  he  has 
been  handin'  out  to  us  in  the  Tombs,  about  his 
bein'  the  son  of  Oscar,  the  Due  de  Nevers,  and 
related  to  all  the  crowned  heads  in  Europe.  Then 

244 


The  "Due  de  Nevers" 

he  ups  and  signs  the  bail  bond  for  a  house  and  lot 
that  he  has  never  seen  in  his  life.  And  here  he  is  up 
agin  it.  An'  it's  a  good  stiff  one  His  Honor  will  be 
handin'  out  to  him  to  my  way  of  thinkin',  for  these 
high  fallutin'  foreigners  has  got  to  be  put  a  stop  to, 
and  Charley  Nevers  is  a  good  one  to  begin  on." 

"  I  think  you're  wrong,  OToole,"  said  I.  "  But 
we  can  tell  better  later  on." 

All  that  day  my  thoughts  kept  reverting  to  the 
Due  de  Nevers.  One  thing  was  more  than  cer- 
tain and  that  was  that  of  all  the  various  personages 
whom  I  had  met  during  my  journey  through  the 
world  none  was  more  fitted  to  be  a  duke  than  he. 
I  was  obliged  to  confess  that  during  my  hour's 
interview  I  had  felt  myself  to  be  in  the  company  of 
a  superior  toeing,  one  of  different  clay  from  that  of 
which  I  was  composed,  a  man  of  better  brain,  and 
better  education,  vastly  more  rounded  and  experi- 
enced, a  cultivated  citizen  of  the  world,  who  would 
be  at  home  in  any  company  no  matter  how  distin- 
guished and  who  would  rise  to  any  emergency. 
As  I  ate  my  dinner  at  the  club  the  name  De  Nevers 
played  mistily  in  the  recesses  of  my  memory.  De 
Nevers!  Surely  there  was  something  historic 
about  it,  some  flavor  of  the  days  of  kings  and  cour- 
tiers. Smoking  my  cigar  in  the  library  I  fell 
into  a  reverie  in  which  the  Tombs,  with  its  towers 
and  grated  windows,  figured  as  a  gray  chateau  of 

245 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

old  Tourraine,  and  Charles  Julius  Francis  in 
hunting  costume  as  a  mediaeval  monseigneur  with  a 
hooded  falcon  on  his  wrist.  I  awoke  to  find  directly 
in  my  line  of  vision  upon  the  shelf  of  the  alcove 
in  front  of  me  the  solid  phalanx  of  the  ten  vol- 
umes of  Larousse's  "Grand  Dictionaire  Uni- 
verse, du  XIX  Siecle,"  and  I  reached  forward  and 
pulled  down  the  letter  "N."  "Nevers" — there  it 
was — "Capitpl  of  the  Department  of  Nievre. 
Ducal  palace  built  in  1475.  Charles  III  de  Gon- 
zagne,  petit-fils  de  Charles  II,"  had  sold  the  duchy 
of  Nevers  and  his  other  domains  in  France  to  Car- 
dinal Mazarin  "par  acte  du  Jul.  II,  1659."  So 
far  so  good.  The  cardinal  had  left  the  duchy  by 
will  to  Philippe  Jules  Francois  Mancini,  his 
nephew,  who  had  died  May  8,  1707.  Ah!  Julius 
Francis!  It  was  like  meeting  an  old  friend.  Phil- 
ippe Jules  Fran£ois  Mancini.  Mazarin  had  ob- 
tained letters  confirming  him  in  the  possession  of 
the  Duchy  of  Nivernais  and  Donzois  in  1720. 
Then  he  had  died  in  1768,  leaving  the  duchy  to 
Louis  Jules  Barbon  Mancini-Mozarini.  This  son 
who  was  the  last  Due  of  Nivernais,  had  died  in 
1798!  "He  was  the  last  of  the  name,"  said  Larousse. 
I  rubbed  my  eyes.  It  was  there  fast  enough — "  last 
of  the  name."  Something  was  wrong.  Without 
getting  up  I  rang  for  a  copy  of  "  Burke*  s  Peerage." 
"Londonderry,  Marquess  of,  married  Oct.  2nd, 
246 


The  "Due  de  Nevers" 

1875,  Lady  Theresa  Susey  Helen,  Lady  of  Grace 
of  St.  John  of  Jerusalem,  eldest  daughter  of  the 
igth  Earl  of  Shrewsbury."  Dear  me!  "Dudley, 
Earl  of,  married  September  14,  1891,  Rachael, 
Lady  of  Grace  of  the  Order  of  St.  John  of  Jeru- 
salem, youngest  daughter  of  Charles  Henry  Gur- 
ney."  I  closed  the  book  and  began  to  think,  and 
the  more  I  thought  the  more  I  wondered.  There 
really  didn't  seem  particular  need  of  going  further. 
If  the  fellow  was  a  fraud,  he  was  a  fraud,  that  was 
all.  But  how  in  Heaven's  name  could  a  man  make 
up  a  story  like  that!  That  night  I  dreamed  once 
more  of  the  ducal  palace  of  Nivernais,  only  its 
courtyard  resembled  that  of  the  Tombs  and  many 
couples  walked  in  a  straggling  line  beneath  its 
walls. 

A  day  or  two  passed  and  I  had  heard  no  more 
of  the  Due  Charles  Julius  when  one  afternoon  a 
lady  called  at  my  office  and  sent  in  her  name  as 
Mrs.  de  Nevers.  She  proved  to  be  an  attractive 
young  woman  a  little  over  twenty,  dressed  in  black, 
whose  face  showed  that  she  had  suffered  more 
than  a  little.  She  explained  that  her  husband  was 
confined  in  the  Tombs  on  a  charge  of  perjury. 
But  that  was  not  all — he  was  worse  than  a  per- 
jurer. He  was  an  impostor — a  bigamist.  He  had 
another  wife  living  somewhere  in  England — in 
Manchester,  she  thought.  Oh,  it  was  too  terrible. 

247 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

He  had  told  her  that  he  was  the  Count  Charles  de 
Nevers,  eldest  son  of  the  Due  de  Nevers — in 
France,  you  know.  And  she  had  believed  him. 
He  had  had  letters  to  everybody  in  Montreal,  her 
home,  and  plenty  of  money  and  beautiful  clothes. 
He  had  dazzled  her  completely.  The  wedding 
had  been  quite  an  affair  and  presents  had  come 
from  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Nevers,  from  the 
Marchioness  of  Londonderry  and  from  the  Count- 
ess of  Dudley.  There  were  also  letters  from  the 
Prince  and  Princess  of  Aremberg  (in  Belgium) 
and  the  Counts  Andre  and  Fernand  of  Nevers. 
It  had  all  been  so  wonderful  and  romantic!  Then 
they  had  gone  on  their  wedding  journey  and  had 
been  ecstatically  happy.  In  Chicago,  they  had 
been  received  with  open  arms.  That  was  before 
the  death  of  the  Duke — yes,  her  mourning  was 
for  the  Duke.  She  smiled  sadly.  I  think  she  still 
more  than  half  believed  that  she  was  a  duchess— 
and  she  deserved  to  be  if  ever  any  girl  did.  Then 
all  of  a  sudden  their  money  had  given  out  and  the 
Duke  had  been  arrested  for  not  paying  their  hotel 
bill.  Perhaps  I  would  like  to  see  a  newspaper  clip- 
ping? It  was  dreadful!  She  was  ashamed  to  be 
seen  anywhere  after  that.  She  had  even  been 
obliged  to  pawn  his  cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honor, 
the  Leopold  Cross  of  Belgium,  and  another  beau- 
tiful decoration  which  he  had  been  accustomed  to 

248 


The  "Due  de  Nevers" 

wear  when  they  went  out  to  dinner.    This  was  the 
clipping: 

CHICAGO  SOCIETY  THE  DUPE  OF  BOGUS 

COUNT 

HOTEL  AND  SEVERAL  WHILOM  FRIENDS  FILLED  WITH 
REGRET— THE  "COUNT"  ARRESTED 

Chicago,  Jan.  29. — "Count  Charles  Julius  Franfois  de 
Nevers"  was  in  the  Police  court  to-day  for  defrauding  the 
Auditorium  Annex  of  a  board  bill.  The  Count  came  to 
the  French  Consul,  M.  Henri  Meron,  amply  supplied 
with  credentials.  He  posed  as  Consulting  Engineer  of 
the  United  States  Steel  Corporation.  He  was  introduced 
into  all  the  clubs,  including  the  Alliance  Franfaise, 
where  he  was  entertained  and  spoke  on  literature. 

He  was  accompanied  by  a  charming  young  "Countess," 
and  the  honors  showered  upon  them  and  the  adulation 
paid  by  society  tuft-hunters  was  something  they  will 
never  forget. 

They  returned  the  entertainments.  The  Count  bor- 
rowed several  thousand  dollars. 

President  Furber,  of  the  Olympic  Games,  said  to-day 
of  the  "Count:" 

"This  man  confided  to  me  that  he  had  invented  a 
machine  for  perpetual  motion,  the  chief  difficulty  of 
which  was  that  it  accumulated  energy  so  fast  that  it  could 
not  be  controlled.  He  asked  me  to  invest  in  some  of  his 
schemes,  which  I  refused  to  do." 

The  fate  of  the  Count  is  still  pending  and  he  was  led 
back  to  a  cell.  *  He  has  been  a  week  behind  the  bars. 
The  "Countess"  is  in  tears. 

"THe  Countess  is  me,"  she  explained. 
"Was  he  sent  to  prison  ?"  I  asked. 
249 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

"Oh,  no,"  she  answered.  "You  see  they  really 
couldn't  tell  whether  he  was  a  Count  or  not,  so 
they  had  to  let  him  go." 

"He  ought  to  be  hung!"  I  cried. 

"  I  really  think  he  ought,"  she  answered.  "  You 
see  it  is  quite  embarrassing,  because  legally  I  have 
never  been  married  at  all,  have  I  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  I  answered,  lying  like  a  gentle- 
man. "Time  enough  to  look  that  up  later." 

"  I  found  out  afterwards,"  she  said,  apparently 
somewhat  encouraged,  "that  his  first  wife  was  a 
nurse  maid  in  London." 

"Yes,"  said  I,  "he  told  me  so  himself." 

Just  then  there  came  a  knock  at  my  door  and 
O'Toole  appeared. 

"  How  are  you,  Counsellor,"  he  said  with  a  grin. 
"  You  know  Charley  Nevers,  well,  av  all  the  pious 
frauds!  Say,  Counsellor,  ain't  he  the  cute  feller! 
What  do  you  suppose,  now?  I  got  his  record 
to-day.  Cast  yer  eye  over  it." 

I  did.    This  is  it: 


No.  98 

The  Central  Office, 

Bureau  of  Detectives, 

Police  Department  of  the  City  of  New  York, 

300  Mulberry  Street. 
Name  ........................  Charles  Francois 

Alias  .........................  Count  de  Nevers 

250 


The  "Due  de  Nevers" 

Date  of  Arrest 1903 

Place  of  Arrest London,  England 

Cause  of  Arrest False  Pretenses 

Name  of  Court Sessions 

To  what  Prison Penal  Servitude 

Term  of  Imprisonment Eighteen  months. 

REMARKS:  Fraudulently  obtained  motor-car  in  London 
under  pretense  that  he  was  Charles  Duke  de  Nevers,  son 
of  Oscar,  Prince  de  Nevers." 

"So  he's  an  ex-convict!"  I  exclaimed. 

"He's  more  than  that!"  cried  O'Toole.  "He's 
a  bir-rd!" 

I  turned  to  Mrs.  de  Nevers  or  whoever  she 
legally  was. 

"  How  did  he  come  to  do  such  a  foolish  thing  as 
to  offer  to  go  on  the  bail  bond  of  a  perfect  stran- 
ger ?  What  good  could  it  do  him  ?  He  was  sure 
to  be  caught." 

"I  don't  know,"  said  she.  "He  was  always 
doing  things  like  that.  He  wanted  to  seem  fine 
and  grand,  I  guess.  We  always  travelled  m  style. 
Why,  the  afternoon  he  signed  the  bond  he  came 
home  and  told  me  how  the  police  had  been  troub- 
ling a  gentleman  who  had  a  lady  with  him  in  an 
automobile  and  how  he  was  able  to  settle  the  whole 
affair  without  the  slightest  difficulty  and  send  them 
on  their  way.  He  was  quite  pleased  about  it." 

"  But  why  do  you  suppose  he  did  it  ?" 

"He  just  thought  he'd  do  'em  a  favor,"  sug- 
251 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

gested  O'Toole,  "and  in  that  way  get  in  wid  'em 
an'  take  their  money  later,  mebbe!" 

"Who  is  he  ?    Do  you  know  ?"  I  asked  the  girl. 

"I  haven't  the  vaguest  idea!"  she  sighed. 

A  week  later  Charles  Julius  Francis  stood  at  the 
bar  of  justice  convicted  of  perjury.  His  degrada- 
tion had  wrought  no  change  in  the  dignity  of  his 
bearing  or  the  impassiveness  of  his  general  ap- 
pearance, and  he  received  the  sentence  of  the 
Court  without  a  tremor,  and  with  shoulders  thrown 
back  and  head  erect  as  befitted  a  scion  of  a  noble 
house. 

"There's  just  one  thing  for  me  to  do  with  you, 
Charles  Francis,"  said  the  Judge  rudely,  "And 
that  is  to  send  you  to  State  Prison  for  a  term  of 
five  years  at  hard  labor." 

Francis  made  no  sign. 

"  There  is  one  other  thing  I  should  like  to  know, 
however,"  continued  His  Honor,  "And  that  is  who 
you  really  are." 

The  prisoner  bowed  slightly. 

"I  am  Charles  Julius  Francis,"  he  replied 
quietly,  "  Due  de  Nevers,  and  Commander  of  the 
Legion  of  Honor." 


252 


A  FINDER  OF  MISSING  HEIRS 


IX 

A  Finder  of  Missing  Heirs 

THE  professional  prosecutor  is  continually 
surprised  at  the  insignificant  amount  of 
crime  existing  in  comparison  with  the  extraordinary 
scope  of  criminal  opportunity.  To  be  sure,  the 
number  of  crimes  actually  detected  is  infinitesimal 
as  contrasted  with  those  committed,  but  even  so 
the  conviction  constantly  grows  that  the  world  is 
astonishingly  honest  when  one  considers  the  un- 
likelihood that  any  specific  prospective  offence  will 
be  discovered.  How  few  dishonest  servants  there 
are,  for  example,  out  of  the  million  or  so  compos- 
ing that  class  of  persons  who  have  an  unlimited 
opportunity  to  snap  up  not  only  unconsidered 
trifles,  but  personal  property  of  great  value.  The 
actual  honesty  of  the  servants  is  probably  greater 
than  that  of  the  masters — in  the  final  analysis. 

Men  are  not  only  "presumed  to  be  innocent"  in 
the  eyes  of  the  law,  but  are  found  to  be  so,  as  a 
matter  of  daily  experience,  so  far  as  honesty  in  the 
ordinary  affairs  of  life  is  concerned,  and  the  fact 

255 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

that  we  rely  so  implicitly  upon  the  truthfulness 
and  integrity  of  our  fellows  is  the  principal  reason 
why  violations  of  this  imperative  social  law  should 
be  severely  dealt  with.  If  it  were  possible  ade- 
quately to  determine  or  deal  with  any  such  issue 
mere  lying  should  be  made  a  crime. 

It  is  matter  of  constant  wonder  that  shrewd 
business  men  will  put  through  all  sorts  of  deals, 
when  thousands  of  dollars  are  at  stake,  relying 
entirely  upon  the  word  of  some  single  person,  whom 
they  do  not  in  fact  know.  John  Smith  is  looking 
for  a  house.  He  finds  one  he  likes  with  an  old 
lady,  who  says  her  name  is  Sarah  Jones,  living  in 
it,  and  offers  her  forty  thousand  dollars  for  her 
real  estate.  She  accepts.  His  lawyer  searches  the 
title  and  finds  that  Sarah  Jones  is  the  owner  of 
record.  The  old  lady  is  invited  to  the  lawyer's 
office,  executes  a  warranty  deed,  and  goes  off  with 
the  forty  thousand  dollars.  Now  in  a  great  num- 
ber of  instances  no  one  really  knows  whether  the 
aged  dame  is  Sarah  Jones  or  not;  and  she  perhaps 
may  be,  and  sometimes  is,  only  the  caretaker's 
second  cousin,  who  is  looking  after  the  house  in 
the  latter' s  absence. 

There  are  thousands  of  acres  of  land  and  hun- 
dreds of  millions  of  money  waiting  at  compound 
interest  to  be  claimed  by  unknown  heirs  or  next  of 
kin.  Even  if  the  real  ones  cannot  be  found  one 

256 


A  Finder  of  Missing  Heirs 

vvould  think  that  this  defect  could  be  easily  sup- 
plied by  some  properly  ingenious  person. 

"  My  Uncle  Bill  went  to  sea  in  '45  and  was  never 
heard  from  again.  Will  you  find  out  if  he  left  any 
money  ? "  wrote  a  client  to  the  author.  Careful 
search  failed  to  reveal  any  money.  But  if  the 
money  had  been  found  first  how  easy  it  would  have 
been  to  turn  up  a  nephew!  Yet  the  industry  of 
producing  properly  authenticated  nephews,  heirs, 
legatees,  next  of  kin  and  claimants  of  all  sorts  has 
never  been  adequately  developed.  There  are 
plenty  of  "agents"  who  for  a  moderate  fee  will  in- 
form you  whether  or  not  there  is  a  fortune  waiting 
for  you,  but  there  is  no  agency  within  the  writer's 
knowledge  which  will  supply  an  heir  for  every 
fortune.  From  a  business  point  of  view  the  idea 
seems  to  have  possibilities. 

Some  few  years  after  the  Civil  War  a  Swede 
named  Ebbe  Petersen  emigrated  to  this  country  to 
better  his  condition.  Fortune  smiled  upon  him 
and  he  amassed  a  modest  bank  account,  which, 
with  considerable  foresight,  he  invested  in  a  large 
tract  of  unimproved  land  in  the  region  known 
as  "The  Bronx,"  New  York  City. 

In  the  summer  of  1888  Petersen  determined  to 
take  a  vacation  and  revisit  Sweden,  and  accord- 
ingly deeded  all  his  real  estate  to  his  wife.  Just 
before  starting  he  decided  to  take  his  wife  and 

257 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

only  child,  a  little  girl  of  ten  or  twelve,  with 
him.  Accordingly  they  set  sail  from  Hoboken 
Saturday,  August  n,  upon  the  steamer  Geiser,  of 
the  Thingvalla  Line,  bound  for  Copenhagen.  At 
four  o'clock  Tuesday  morning,  at  a  point  thirty 
miles  south  of  Sable  Island  and  two  hundred  miles 
out  of  Halifax,  the  Geiser,  in  the  midst  of  a  thick 
fog,  crashed  suddenly  into  a  sister  ship,  the 
Thingvalla,  of  the  same  line,  and  sank.  The 
Thingvalla  was  herself  badly  crippled,  but,  after 
picking  up  thirty-one  survivors,  managed  to  limp 
into  Halifax,  from  which  port  the  rescued  were 
brought  to  New  York.  Only  fourteen  of  the 
Geiser  j  passengers  had  been  saved  and  the  Peter- 
sens  were  not  among  them.  They  were  never 
heard  of  again,  and  no  relatives  came  forward  to 
claim  their  property,  which,  happening  to  be  in 
the  direct  line  of  the  city's  development,  was  in 
course  of  time  mapped  out  into  streets  and  house 
lots  and  became  exceedingly  valuable.  Gradually 
houses  were  built  upon  it,  various  people  bought  it 
for  investment,  and  it  took  on  the  look  of  other 
semi-developed  suburban  property. 

In  the  month  of  December,  1905,  over  seven- 
teen years  after  the  sinking  of  the  Geiser,  a  lawyer 
named  H.  Huffman  Browne,  offered  to  sell  "  at  a 
bargain"  to  a  young  architect  named  Benjamin 
Levitan  two  house  lots  adjacent  to  the  southwest 

258 


A  Finder  of  Missing  Heirs 

corner  of  One  Hundred  and  Seventy-fourth  Street 
and  Monroe  Avenue,  New  York  City.  It  so  hap- 
pened that  Browne  had,  not  long  before,  induced 
Levitan  to  go  into  another  real-estate  deal,  in 
which  the  architect's  suspicions  had  been  aroused 
by  finding  that  the  property  alleged  by  the  lawyer 
to  be  "improved"  was,  in  fact,  unbuilt  upon.  He 
had  lost  no  money  in  the  original  transaction,  but 
he  determined  that  no  such  mistake  should  occur 
a  second  time,  and  he  accordingly  visited  the  prop- 
erty, and  also  had  a  search  made  of  the  title,  which 
revealed  the  fact  that  Browne  was  not  the  record 
owner,  as  he  had  stated,  but  that,  on  the  contrary, 
the  land  stood  in  the  name  of  "William  R.  Hu- 
bert." 

It  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  both  the  parties 
to  this  proposed  transaction  were  men  well  known 
in  their  own  professions.  Browne,  particularly, 
was  a  real-estate  lawyer  of  some  distinction,  and 
an  editor  of  what  were  known  as  the  old  "New 
York  Civil  Procedure  Reports."  He  was  a  middle- 
aged  man,  careful  in  his  dress,  particular  in  his 
speech,  modest  and  quiet  in  his  demeanor,  by  repu- 
tation a  gentleman  and  a  scholar,  and  had  practised 
at  the  New  York  bar  some  twenty-five  years. 

But  Levitan,  who  had  seen  many  wolves  in 
sheep's  clothing,  and  had  something  of  the  Sher- 
lock Holmes  in  his  composition,  determined  to  seek 

259 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

the  advice  of  the  District  Attorney,  and  having 
done  so,  received  instructions  to  go  ahead  and 
consummate  the  purchase  of  the  property.  He, 
therefore,  informed  Browne  that  he  had  learned 
that  the  latter  was  not  the  owner  of  record,  to 
which  Browne  replied  that  that  was  true,  but 
that  the  property  really  did  belong  to  him  in 
fact,  being  recorded  in  Hubert's  name  merely  as  a 
matter  of  convenience  (because  Hubert  was  un- 
married), and  that,  moreover,  he,  Browne,  had  an 
unrecorded  deed  from  Hubert  to  himself,  which 
he  would  produce,  or  would  introduce  Hubert  to 
Levitan  and  let  him  execute  a  deed  direct.  Levitan 
assented  to  the  latter  proposition,  and  the  four- 
teenth of  December,  1905,  was  fixed  as  the  date 
for  the  delivery  of  the  deeds  and  the  payment  for 
the  property. 

At  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  that  day 
Browne  appeared  at  Levitan's  office  (where  a  de- 
tective was  already  in  attendance)  and  stated  that 
he  had  been  unable  to  procure  Mr.  Hubert's  per- 
sonal presence,  but  had  received  from  him  deeds, 
duly  executed,  to  the  property.  These  he  offered 
to  Levitan.  At  this  moment  the  detective  stepped 
forward,  took  possession  of  the  papers,  and  invited 
the  lawyer  to  accompany  him  to  the  District  Attor- 
ney's office.  To  this  Browne  offered  no  opposi- 
tion, and  the  party  adjourned  to  the  Criminal 

260 


A  Finder  of  Missing  Heirs 

Courts  Building,  where  Mr.  John  W.  Hart,  an 
Assistant  District  Attorney,  accused  him  of  having 
obtained  money  from  Levitan  by  means  of  false 
pretences  as  to  the  ownership  of  the  property,  and 
requested  from  him  an  explanation.  Browne  re- 
plied without  hesitation  that  he  could  not  under- 
stand why  this  charge  should  be  made  against  him; 
that  he  had,  in  fact,  received  the  deeds  from  Mr. 
Hubert  only  a  short  time  before  he  had  delivered 
them  to  Levitan;  that  Mr.  Hubert  was  in  New 
York;  that  he  was  the  owner  of  the  property,  and 
that  no  fraud  of  any  sort  had  been  attempted  or 
intended. 

Mr.  Hart  now  examined  the  supposed  deeds  and 
found  that  the  signatures  to  them,  as  well  as  the 
signatures  to  a  certain  affidavit  of  title,  which  set 
forth  that  William  R.  Hubert  was  a  person  of 
substance,  had  all  been  executed  before  a  notary, 
Ella  F.  Braman,  on  that  very  day.  He  therefore 
sent  at  once  for  Mrs.  Braman  who,  upon  her 
arrival,  immediately  and  without  hesitation,  posi- 
tively identified  the  defendant,  H.  Huffman 
Browne,  as  the  person  who  had  executed  the  pa- 
pers before  her  an  hour  or  so  before.  The  case  on 
its  face  seemed  clear  enough.  Browne  had  appar- 
ently deliberately  forged  William  R.  Hubert's 
name,  and  it  did  not  even  seem  necessary  that 
Mr.  Hubert  should  be  summoned  as  a  witness, 

261 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

since  the  property  was  recorded  in  his  name,  and 
Browne  himself  had  stated  that  Hubert  was  then 
actually  in  New  York. 

But  Browne  indignantly  protested  his  innocence. 
It  was  clear,  he  insisted,  that  Mrs.  Braman  was 
mistaken,  for  why,  in  the  name  of  common-sense, 
should  he,  a  lawyer  of  standing,  desire  to  forge 
Hubert's  name,  particularly  when  he  himself  held 
an  unrecorded  deed  of  the  "same  property,  and 
could  have  executed  a  good  conveyance  to  Levitan 
had  the  latter  so  desired.  Such  a  performance 
would  have  been  utterly  without  an  object.  But 
the  lawyer  was  nervous,  and  his  description  of  Hu- 
bert as  "  a  wealthy  mine  owner  from  the  West,  who 
owned  a  great  deal  of  property  in  New  York,  and 
had  an  office  in  the  Flatiron  Building,"  did  not 
ring  convincingly  in  Mr.  Hart's  ears.  The  Assist- 
ant District  Attorney  called  up  the  janitor  of  the 
building  in  question  on  the  telephone.  But  no 
such  person  had  an  office  there.  Browne,  much 
flustered,  said  the  janitor  was  either  a  fool  or  a 
liar.  He  had  been  at  Hubert's  office  that  very 
morning.  He  offered  to  go  and  find  him  in  twenty 
minutes.  But  Mr.  Hart  thought  that  the  lawyer 
had  better  make  his  explanation  before  a  magis- 
trate, and  caused  his  arrest  and  commitment  on  a 
charge  of  forgery.  Little  did  he  suspect  what  an 
ingenious  fraud  was  about  to  be  unearthed. 

262 


A  Finder  of  Missing  Heirs 

The  days  went  by  and  Browne  stayed  in  the 
Tombs,  unable  to  raise  the  heavy  bail  demanded, 
but  no  Hubert  appeared.  Meantime  the  writer, 
to  whom  the  case  had  been  sent  for  trial,  ordered 
a  complete  search  of  the  title  to  the  property,  and 
in  a  week  or  so  became  possessed,  to  his  amaze- 
ment, of  a  most  extraordinary  and  complicated 
collection  of  facts. 

He  discovered  that  the  lot  of  land  offered  by 
Browne  to  Levitan,  and  standing  in  Hubert's 
name,  was  originally  part  of  the  property  owned 
by  Ebbe  Petersen,  the  unfortunate  Swede  who, 
with  his  family,  had  perished  in  the  Geiser  off 
Cape  Sable  in  1888. 

The  title  search  showed  that  practically  all  of 
the  Petersen  property  had  been  conveyed  by 
Mary  A.  Petersen  to  a  person  named  Ignatius  F. 
X.  O'Rourke,  by  a  deed,  which  purported  to  have 
been  executed  on  June  27,  1888,  about  two  weeks 
before  the  Petersens  sailed  for  Copenhagen,  and 
which  was  signed  with  Mrs.  Petersen's  mark,  but 
that  this  deed  had  not  been  recorded  until  July  3, 
1899,  eleven  years  after  the  loss  of  the  Geiser. 

The  writer  busied  himself  with  finding  some  one 
who  had  known  Mrs.  Petersen,  and  by  an  odd  co- 
incidence discovered  a  woman  living  in  the  Bronx 
who  had  been  an  intimate  friend  and  playmate  of 
the  little  Petersen  girl.  This  witness,  who  was  but 

263 


True  Stories  of  Crime 


a  child  when  the  incident  had  occurred,  clearly 
recalled  the  fact  that  Ebbe  Petersen  had  not  de- 
cided to  take  his  wife  and  daughter  with  him  on  the 
voyage  until  a  few  days  before  they  sailed.  They 
had  then  invited  her,  the  witness — now  a  Mrs. 
Cantwell — to  go  with  them,  but  her  mother  had 
declined  to  allow  her  to  do  so.  Mrs.  Petersen, 
moreover,  according  to  Mrs.  Cantwell,  was  a  wom- 
an of  education,  who  wrote  a  particularly  fine 
hand.  Other  papers  were  discovered  executed  at 
about  the  same  time,  signed  by  Mrs.  Petersen  with 
her  full  name.  It  seemed  inconceivable  that  she 
should  have  signed  any  deed,  much  less  one  of  so 
much  importance,  with  her  mark,  and,  moreover, 
that  she  should  have  executed  any  such  deed  at  all 
when  her  husband  was  on  the  spot  to  convey  his 
own  property. 

But  the  strangest  fact  of  all  was  that  the  attest- 
ing witness  to  this  extraordinary  instrument  was 
H.  Huffman  Browne!  It  also  appeared  to  have 
been  recorded  at  his  Instance  eleven  years  after  its 
execution. 

In  the  meantime,  however,  that  is  to  say,  be- 
tween the  sinking  of  the  Geiser  in  '88  and  the 
recording  of  Mary  Petersen's  supposed  deed  in 
'99,  another  equally  mysterious  deed  to  the  same 
property  had  been  filed.  This  document,  executed 
and  recorded  in  1896,  purported  to  convey  part  of 

264 


rKr 


A  Finder  of  Missing  Heirs 

the  Petersen  property  to  a  man  named  John  J. 
Keilly,  and  was  signed  by  a  person  calling  himself 
Charles  A.  Clark.  By  a  later  deed,  executed  and 
signed  a  few  days  later,  John  J.  Keilly  appeared 
to  have  conveyed  the  same  property  to  Ignatius  F. 
X.  O'Rourke,  the  very  person  to  whom  Mrs.  Peter- 
sen  had  apparently  executed  her  deed  in  1888. 
And  H.  Huffman  Browne  was  the  attesting  wit- 
ness to  both  these  deeds! 

A  glance  at  the  following  diagram  will  serve  to 
clear  up  any  confusion  which  may  exist  in  the 
mind  of  the  reader: 

1888  MARY  A.  PETERSEN    1896  CHARLES    A.    CLARK 

Recorded        ^7    her    (X)    deed  conveys    same    property 

until  1899)       conveys  to  to 

I.  F.  X.  O'ROURKE  JOHN  J.  KEILLY. 

1896  JOHN  J.  KEILLY 
conveys  to 

I.       F.       X.       O'ROURKE 


O'ROURKE  thus  holds  land 
through  two  sources. 

Browne  was  the  witness  to  both  these  parallel 
transactions!  Of  course  it  was  simple  enough  to 
see  what  had  occurred.  In  1896  a  mysterious  man, 
named  Clark,  without  vestige  of  right  or  title,  so 
far  as  the  records  showed,  had  conveyed  Ebbe 
Petersen's  property  to  a  man  named  Keilly, 

265 


True  Stories  of  Crime 


equally  unsubstantial,  who  had  passed  it  over  to 
one  O'Rourke.  Then  Browne  had  suddenly  re- 
corded Mrs.  Petersen's  deed  giving  O'Rourke  the 
very  same  property.  Thus  this  O'Rourke,  who- 
ever he  may  have  been,  held  all  the  Petersen  prop- 
erty by  two  chains  of  title,  one  through  Clark  and 
Keilly,  and  the  other  through  Mrs.  Petersen. 
Then  he  had  gone  ahead  and  deeded  it  all  away 
to  various  persons,  through  one  of  whom  William 
R.  Hubert  had  secured  his  title.  But  every  deed 
on  record  which  purported  to  pass  any  fraction  of 
the  Petersen  property  was  witnessed  by  H.  Huff- 
man Browne!  And  Browne  was  the  attesting 
witness  to  the  deed  under  which  Hubert  purported 
to  hold.  Thus  the  chain  of  title,  at  the  end  of 
which  Levitan  found  himself,  ran  back  to  Mary 
Petersen,  with  H.  Huffman  Browne  peering  be- 
hind the  arras  of  every  signature. 


MARY  PETERSEN               (  CLARK 
to                              \      to 
O'ROURKE                        '  KEILLY 

BROWNE, 
attesting  witness. 

(  KEILLY 
)     t0 

(  O'ROURKE 

1 

BROWNE, 

attesting  witness. 

(  O'ROURKE 

^         to 

(  WILLIAM  P.  COLLITON 
266 


BROWNE, 
attesting  witness. 


A  Finder  of  Missing  Heirs 

I  WILLIAM  P.  COLUTON  BROWNE> 

attesting  witness. 


(JOHN  GARRETSON  BROWNE> 

(HERMAN  BOLTE  attesting  witness 

f  HERMAN  BOLTE  BRQWNE> 

\  BENJ°  FREEMAN  attesting  witness 
,BENJO  FREEMAN  BEDWNE> 

WILLIAM  R.  HUBERT  attesting  witness' 


The  Assistant  District  Attorney  rubbed  his  fore- 
head and  wondered  who  in  thunder  all  these  peo- 
ple were.  Who,  for  example,  to  begin  at  the  be- 
ginning, was  Charles  A.  Clark,  and  why  should  he 
be  deeding  away  Ebbe  Petersen's  property  ?  And 
who  were  Keilly  and  O'Rourke,  and  all  the  rest— 
Colliton,  Garretson,  Bolte  and  Freeman  ?  And 
who,  for  that  matter,  was  Hubert  ? 

A  score  of  detectives  were  sent  out  to  hunt  up 
these  elusive  persons,  but,  although  the  directories 
of  twenty  years  were  searched,  no  Charles  A. 
Clark,  John  J.  Keilly  or  I.  F.  X.  O'Rourke  could 
be  discovered.  Nor  could  any  one  named  Col- 
liton, Freeman  or  Hubert  be  found.  The  only 
persons  who  did  appear  to  exist  were  Garretson 
and  Bolte. 

Quite  by  chance  the  Assistant  District  Attorney 
located  the  former  of  these,  who  proved  to  be  one 

267 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

of  Browne's  clients,  and  who  stated  that  he  ha 
taken  title  to  the  property  at  the  lawyer's  request 
and  as  a  favor  to  him,  did  not  remember  from  whom 
he  had  received  it,  had  paid  nothing  for  it,  re- 
ceived nothing  for  it,  and  had  finally  deeded  it  to 
Herman  Bolte  at  the  direction  of  Browne.  Her- 
man Bolte,  an  ex-judge  of  the  Municipal  Court, 
who  had  been  removed  for  misconduct  in  office, 
admitted  grumblingly  that,  while  at  one  time  he 
had  considered  purchasing  the  property  in  ques- 
tion, he  had  never  actually  done  so,  that  the  deed 
from  Garretson  to  himself  had  been  recorded 
without  his  knowledge  or  his  authority,  that  he 
had  paid  nothing  for  the  property  and  had  re- 
ceived nothing  for  it,  and  had,  at  the  instruction  of 
Browne,  conveyed  it  to  Benjamin  Freeman.  Gar- 
retson apparently  had  never  seen  Bolte,  and  Bolte 
had  never  seen  Freeman,  while  William  R.  Hu- 
bert, the  person  to  whom  the  record  showed  Free- 
man had  transferred  the  property,  remained  an 
invisible  figure,  impossible  to  reduce  to  tangi- 
bility. 

Just  what  Browne  had  attempted  to  do — had 
done — was  obvious.  In  some  way,  being  a  real- 
estate  lawyer,  he  had  stumbled  upon  the  fact  that 
this  valuable  tract  of  land  lay  unclaimed.  Ac- 
cordingly, he  had  set  about  the  easiest  way  to 
reduce  it  to  possession.  To  make  assurance 

268 


A  Finder  of  Missing  Heirs 

doubly  sure  he  had  forged  two  chains  of  title,  one 
through  an  assumed  heir  and  the  other  through 
the  owner  herself.  Then  he  had  juggled  the  title 
through  a  dozen  or  so  grantees,  and  stood  ready 
to  dispose  of  the  property  to  the  highest  bidder. 

There  he  stayed  in  the  Tombs,  demanding  a 
trial  and  protesting  his  innocence,  and  asserting 
that  if  the  District  Attorney  would  only  look  long 
enough  he  would  find  William  R.  Hubert.  But  an 
interesting  question  of  law  had  cropped  up  to  delay 
matters. 

Of  course,  if  there  was  anybody  by  the  name  of 
Hubert  who  actually  owned  the  porperty,  and 
Browne  had  signed  his  name,  conveying  the  same, 
to  a  deed  to  Levitan,  Browne  was  guilty  of  forgery 
in  the  first  degree.  But  the  evidence  in  the  case 
pointed  toward  the  conclusion  that  Browne  him- 
self was  Hubert.  If  this  was  so,  how  could  Browne 
be  said  to  have  forged  the  name  of  Hubert,  when 
he  had  a  perfect  legal  right  to  take  the  property 
under  any  name  he  chose  to  assume  ?  This  was 
incontestable.  If  your  name  be  Richard  Roe  you 
may  purchase  land  and  receive  title  thereto  under 
the  name  of  John  Doe,  and  convey  it  under  that 
name  without  violating  the  law.  This  as  a  general 
proposition  is  true  so  long  as  the  taking  of  a  ficti- 
tious name  is  for  an  honest  purpose  and  not  tainted 
with  fraud.  The  Assistant  District  Attorney  felt 

269 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

that  the  very  strength  of  his  case  created,  as  it 
were,  a  sort  of  "legal  weakness,"  for  the  more 
evidence  he  should  put  in  against  Browne,  the 
clearer  it  would  become  that  Hubert  was  merely 
Browne  himself,  and  this  would  necessitate  addi- 
tional proof  that  Browne  had  taken  the  property 
in  the  name  of  Hubert  for  purposes  of  fraud, 
which  could  only  be  established  by  going  into  the 
whole  history  of  the  property.  Of  course,  if 
Browne  were  so  foolish  as  to  put  in  the  defence 
that  Hubert  really  existed,  the  case  would  be  plain 
sailing.  If,  however,  Browne  was  as  astute  as  the 
District  Attorney  believed  him  to  be,  he  might 
boldly  admit  that  there  was  no  Hubert  except  him- 
self, and  that  in  taking  title  to  the  property  and 
disposing  thereof  under  that  name,  he  was  com- 
mitting no  violation  of  law  for  which  he  could  be 
prosecuted. 

The  case  was  moved  for  trial  on  the  twelfth  of 
March,  1906,  before  Judge  Warren  W.  Foster,  in 
Part  Three  of  the  Court  of  General  Sessions  in 
New  York.  The  defendant  was  arraigned  at  the 
bar  without  counsel,  owing  to  the  absence  of  his 
lawyer  through  sickness,  and  Mr.  Lewis  Stuyve- 
sant  Chanler,  the  later  Lieutenant-Governor  of 
the  State,  was  assigned  to  defend  him.  At  this 
juncture  Browne  arose  and  addressed  the  Court. 
In  the  most  deferential  and  conciliatory  manner  he 

270 


A  Finder  of  Missing  Heirs 

urged  that  he  was  entitled  to  an  adjournment  until 
such  time  as  he  could  produce  William  R.  Hubert 
as  a  witness;  stating  that,  although  the  latter  had 
been  in  town  on  December  I4th,and  had  personally 
given  him  the  deeds  in  question,  which  he  had 
handed  to  Levitan,  Hubert's  interests  in  the  West 
had  immediately  called  him  from  the  city,  and 
that  he  was  then  in  Goldfields,  Nevada;  that 
since  he  had  been  in  the  Tombs  he,  Browne,  had 
been  in  correspondence  with  a  gentleman  by  the 
name  of  Alfred  S  keels,  of  the  Teller  House,  Cen- 
tral City,  Colorado,  from  whom  he  had  received  a 
letter  within  the  week  to  the  effect  that  Hubert  had 
arranged  to  start  immediately  for  New  York,  for 
the  purpose  of  testifying  as  a  witness  for  the  de- 
fence. The  prosecutor  thereupon  demanded  the 
production  of  this  letter  from  the  alleged  Skeels, 
and  Browne  was  compelled  to  state  that  he  had 
immediately  destroyed  it  on  its  receipt.  The  prose- 
cutor then  argued  that  under  those  circumstances, 
and  in  view  of  the  fact  that  the  People's  evidence 
showed  conclusively  that  no  such  person  as  Hu- 
bert existed,  there  was  no  reason  why  the  trial 
should  not  proceed  then  and  there.  The  Court 
thereupon  ruled  that  the  case  should  go  on. 

A  jury  was  procured  after  some  difficulty,  and 
the  evidence  of  Mr.  Levitan  received,  showing  that 
Browne  had  represented  Hubert  to  be  a  man  of 

271 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

substance,  and  had  produced  an  affidavit,  pur- 
ported to  be  sworn  to  by  Hubert,  to  the  same  effect, 
with  deeds  alleged  to  have  been  signed  by  him. 
Mrs.  Braman  then  swore  that  upon  the  same  day 
Browne  had  himself  acknowledged  these  very 
deeds  and  had  sworn  to  the  affidavit  before  her  as 
a  notary,  under  the  name  of  William  R.  Hubert. 

Taken  with  the  fact  that  Browne  had  in  open 
court  stated  that  Hubert  was  a  living  man,  this 
made  out  a  prima  facie  case.  But,  of  course,  the 
District  Attorney  was  unable  to  determine  whether 
or  not  Browne  would  take  the  stand  in  his  own 
behalf,  or  what  his  defence  would  be,  and,  in  order 
to  make  assurance  doubly  sure,  offered  in  evidence 
all  the  deeds  to  the  property  in  question,  thereby 
establishing  the  fact  that  it  was  originally  part  of 
the  Petersen  estate,  and  disclosing  the  means 
whereby  it  had  eventually  been  recorded  in  the 
name  of  Hubert. 

The  prosecution  then  rested  its  case,  and  the 
burden  shifted  to  the  defence  to  explain  how  all 
these  deeds,  attested  by  Browne,  came  to  be  exe- 
cuted and  recorded.  It  was  indeed  a  difficult,  if 
not  impossible,  task  which  the  accused  lawyer 
undertook  when  he  went  upon  the  stand.  He 
again  positively  and  vehemently  denied  that  he 
had  signed  the  name  of  Hubert  to  the  deed 
which  he  had  offered  to  Levitan,  and  persisted  in 

272 


A  Finder  of  Missing  Heirs 

the  contention  that  Hubert  was  a  real  man,  who 
sooner  or  later  would  turn  up.  He  admitted  know- 
ing the  Petersen  family  in  a  casual  way,  and  said 
he  had  done  some  business  for  them,  but  stated 
that  he  had  not  heard  of  their  tragic  death  until 
some  years  after  the  sinking  of  the  Gelser.  He  had 
then  ascertained  that  no  one  had  appeared  to  lay 
claim  to  Mrs.  Petersen's  estate,  and  he  had  ac- 
cordingly taken  it  upon  himself  to  adveritse  for 
heirs.  In  due  course  Charles  A.  Clark  had  ap- 
peared and  had  deeded  the  property  to  Keilly,  who 
in  turn  had  conveyed  it  to  O'Rourke.  Just  who 
this  mysterious  O'Rourke  was  he  could  not  ex- 
plain, nor  could  he  account  in  any  satisfactory 
manner  for  the  recording  in  1899  of  the  deed 
signed  with  Mary  Petersen's  mark.  He  said  that 
it  had  "turned  up"  in  O'Rourke's  hands  after 
O'Rourke  had  become  possessed  of  the  property 
through  the  action  of  the  heirs,  and  that  he  had  no 
recollection  of  ever  having  seen  it  before  or  having 
witnessed  it.  In  the  latter  transactions,  by  which 
the  property  had  been  split  up,  he  claimed  to  have 
acted  only  as  attorney  for  the  different  grantors. 
He  was  unable  to  give  the  address  or  business  of 
O'Rourke,  Clark,  Keilly  or  Freeman,  and  ad- 
mitted that  he  had  never  seen  any  of  them  save  at 
his  own  office.  He  was  equally  vague  as  to  Hu- 
bert, whose  New  York  residence  he  gave  as  in 

273 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Fifth  Avenue.  No  such  person,  however,  had  ever 
been  known  at  that  address. 

Browne  gave  his  testimony  in  the  same  dry, 
polite  and  careful  manner  in  which  he  had  always 
been  accustomed  to  discuss  his  cases  and  deliver  his 
arguments.  It  seemed  wholly  impossible  to  believe 
that  this  respectable-looking  person  could  be  a 
dangerous  character,  yet  the  nature  of  his  offence 
and  the  consequences  of  it  were  apparent  when  the 
State  called  to  the  stand  an  old  broom-maker,  who 
had  bought  from  Browne  one  of  the  lots  belonging 
to  the  Petersen  estate.  Holding  up  three  stumps 
where  fingers  should  have  been,  he  cried  out,  chok- 
ing with  tears : 

"  My  vriends,  for  vifteen  years  I  vorked  at  mak- 
ing brooms — me  und  my  vife — from  fife  in  the 
morning  until  six  at  night,  und  I  loose  mine  fingern 
trying  to  save  enough  money  to  puy  a  house  that 
we  could  call  our  own.  Then  when  we  saved  eight 
hundred  dollars  this  man  come  to  us  und  sold  us 
a  lot.  We  were  very  happy.  Yesterday  anoder 
man  served  me  mit  a  paper  that  we  must  leave  our 
house,  because  we  did  not  own  the  land!  We  must 
go  away!  Where?  We  haf  no  place  to  go.  Our 
home  is  being  taken  from  us,  und  that  man  [point- 
ing his  stumps  at  Browne] — that  man  has  stolen  it 
from  us!" 

He  stopped,  unable  to  speak.  The  defendant's 
274 


A  Finder  of  Missing  Heirs 

lawyer  properly  objected,  but,  with  this  piece  of 
testimony  ringing  in  their  ears,  it  is  hardly  surpris- 
ing that  the  jury  took  but  five  minutes  to  convict 
Browne  of  forgery  in  the  first  degree. 

A  few  days  later  the  judge  sentenced  him  to 
twenty  years  in  State's  prison. 

Then  other  people  began  to  wake  up.  The 
Attorney-General  guessed  that  the  Petersen  prop- 
erty had  all  escheated  to  the  State,  the  Swedish 
Government  sent  a  deputy  to  make  inquiries,  the 
Norwegian  Government  was  sure  that  he  was  a 
Norwegian,  and  the  Danish  that  he  was  a  Dane. 
No  one  knows  yet  who  is  the  real  owner,  and  there 
are  half  a  dozen  heirs  squatting  on  every  corner  of  it. 
Things  are  much  worse  than  before  Browne  tried 
to  sell  the  ill-fated  lot  to  Levitan,  but  a  great  many 
people  who  were  careless  before  are  careful  now. 

It  soon  developed,  however,  that  lawyer  Browne's 
industiy  and  ingenuity  had  not  been  confined  to 
the  exploitation  of  the  estate  of  Ebbe  Petersen. 
Before  the  trial  was  well  under  way  the  City 
Chamberlain  of  New  York  notified  the  District 
Attorney  that  a  peculiar  incident  had  occurred  at 
his  office,  in  which  not  only  the  defendant  figured, 
but  William  R.  Hubert,  his  familiar,  as  well.  In 
the  year  1904  a  judgment  had  been  entered  in  the 
Supreme  Court,  which  adjudged  that  a  certain 
George  Wilson  was  entitled  to  a  one-sixth  interest 

275 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

in  the  estate  of  Jane  Elizabeth  Barker,  recently 
deceased.  George  Wilson  had  last  been  heard  of, 
twenty  years  before,  as  a  farmhand,  in  Illinois,  and 
his  whereabouts  were  at  this  time  unknown.  Sud- 
denly, however,  he  had  appeared.  That  is  to  say, 
H.  Huffman  Browne  had  appeared  as  his  attorney, 
and  demanded  his  share  of  the  property  which  had 
been  deposited  to  his  credit  with  the  City  Cham- 
berlain and  amounted  to  seventy-five  hundred 
dollars.  The  lawyer  had  presented  a  petition 
signed  apparently  by  Wilson  and  a  bond  also  sub- 
scribed by  him,  to  which  had  been  appended  the 
names  of  certain  sureties.  One  of  these  was  a 
William  R.  Hubert — the  same  William  R.  Hubert 
who  had  mysteriously  disappeared  when  his  pres- 
ence was  so  vital  to  the  happiness  and  liberty  of  his 
creator.  But  the  City  Chamberlain  had  not  been 
on  his  guard,  and  had  paid  over  the  seventy-five 
hundred  dollars  to  Browne  without  ever  having 
seen  the  claimant  or  suspecting  for  an  instant  that 
all  was  not  right. 

It  was  further  discovered  at  the  same  time  that 
Browne  had  made  several  other  attempts  to  secure 
legacies  remaining  uncalled  for  in  the  city's  treas- 
ury. In  how  many  cases  he  had  been  successful 
will  probably  never  be  known,  but  it  is  unlikely 
that  his  criminal  career  dated  only  from  the  filing 
of  the  forged  Petersen  deed  in  1896. 

276 


A  Finder  of  Missing  Heirs 

Browne  made  an  heroic  and  picturesque  fight  to 
secure  a  reversal  of  his  conviction  through  all  the 
State  courts,  and  his  briefs  and  arguments  are 
monuments  to  his  ingenuity  and  knowledge  of  the 
law.  He  alleged  that  his  conviction  was  entirely 
due  to  a  misguided  enthusiasm  on  the  part  of  the 
prosecutor,  the  present  writer,  whom  he  character- 
ized as  a  "novelist"  and  dreamer.  The  whole 
case,  he  alleged,  was  constructed  out  of  the  latter' s 
fanciful  imagination,  a  cobweb  of  suspicion,  accu- 
sation and  falsehood.  Some  day  his  friend  Hu- 
bert would  come  out  of  the  West,  into  which  he  had 
so  unfortunately  disappeared,  and  release  an  inno- 
cent man,  sentenced,  practically  to  death,  because 
the  case  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  one  wrhose 
sense  of  the  dramatic  was  greater  than  his  logic. 

Perchance  he  will.  Mayhap,  when  H.  Huffman 
Browne  is  the  oldest  inmate  of  Sing  Sing,  or  even 
sooner,  some  gray-haired  figure  will  appear  at  the 
State  Capitol,  and  knock  tremblingly  at  the  door 
of  the  Executive,  asking  for  a  pardon  or  a  rehear- 
ing of  the  case,  and  claiming  to  be  the  only  origi- 
nal, genuine  William  R.  Hubert — such  a  denoue- 
ment would  not  be  beyond  the  realms  of  possi- 
bility, but  more  likely  the  request  will  come  in  the 
form  of  a  petition,  duly  attested  and  authenticated 
before  some  notary  in  the  West,  protesting  against 
Browne's  conviction  and  incarceration,  and  bear- 

277 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

ing  the  flowing  signature  of  William  R.  Hubert — 
the  same  signature  that  appears  on  Browne's 
deeds  to  Levitan — the  same  that  is  affixed  to  the 
bond  of  George  Wilson,  the  vanished  farmhand, 
claimant  to  the  estate  of  Jane  Elizabeth  Barker. 


A  MURDER  CONSPIRACY 


X 

A  Murder  Conspiracy* 

WILLIAM  M.  RICE,  eighty-four  years  of 
age,  died  at  the  Berkshire  Apartments  at 
500  Madison  Avenue,  New  York  City,  at  about  half 
after  seven  o'clock  on  the  evening  of  Sunday,  Sep- 
tember 23,  1900.  He  had  been  ill  for  some  time, 
but  it  was  expected  that  he  would  recover.  On  or 
about  the  moment  of  his  death,  two  elderly  ladies, 
friends  of  the  old  gentleman,  had  called  at  the  house 
with  cakes  and  wine,  to  see  him.  The  elevator  man 
rang  the  bell  of  Mr.  Rice's  apartment  again  and 
again,  but  could  elicit  no  response,  and  the  ladies, 
much  disappointed,  went  away.  While  the  bell 
was  ringing  Charles  F.  Jones,  the  confidential 
valet  of  the  aged  man,  was  waiting,  he  says,  in  an 

*In  1906  the  Governor  of  New  York  commuted  the  death 
sentence  of  Albert  T.  Patrick  to  life  imprisonment,  and  the  most 
extraordinary  struggle  in  the  legal  history  of  the  State  on  the  part 
of  a  convicted  murderer  for  his  own  life  came  to  an  end.  The 
defendant  in  the  "Death  House"  at  Sing  Sing  had  invoked  every 
expedient  to  escape  punishment,  and  by  the  use  of  his  knowledge 
had  even  saved  a  fellow  prisoner,  "Mike"  Brush,  from  the  electric 
chair. 

281 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

adjoining  room  until  a  cone  saturated  with  chloro- 
form, which  he  had  placed  over  the  face  of  his  sleep- 
ing master,  should  effect  his  death. 

Did  Jones  murder  Rice  ?  If  so,  was  it,  as  he 
claims,  at  the  instigation  of  Albert  T.  Patrick  ? 

These  two  questions,  now  settled  in  the  affirma- 
tive forever,  so  far  as  criminal  and  civil  litigation 
are  concerned,  have  been  the  subject  of  private 
study  and  public  argument  for  more  than  seven 
years. 

Mr.  Rice  was  a  childless  widower,  living  the  life 
of  a  recluse,  attended  only  by  Jones,  who  was  at 
once  his  secretary,  valet  and  general  servant.  No 
other  person  lived  in  the  apartment,  and  few  vis- 
itors ever  called  there.  Patrick  was  a  New  York 
lawyer  with  little  practice  who  had  never  met  Mr. 
Rice,  was  employed  as  counsel  in  litigation  hostile 
to  him,  yet  in  whose  favor  a  will  purporting  to  be 
signed  by  Rice,  June  30,  1900,  turned  up  after  the 
latter' s  death,  by  the  terms  of  which  Patrick  came 
into  the  property,  amounting  to  over  seven  million 
dollars,  in  place  of  a  charitable  institution  named 
in  an  earlier  will  of  1896.  It  is  now  universally 
admitted  that  the  alleged  will  of  1900  was  a  for- 
gery, as  well  as  four  checks  drawn  to  Patrick's 
order  (two  for  $25,000  each,  one  for  $65,000,  and 
one  for  $135,000,  which  represented  practically  all 
of  Rice's  bank  accounts),  an  order  giving  him  con- 

282 


A  Murder  Conspiracy 

trol  of  the  contents  of  Rice's  safe  deposit  vaults  (in 
which  were  more  than  $2,500,000  in  securities), 
and  also  a  general  assignment  by  which  he  became 
the  owner  of  Rice's  entire  estate.  Thus  upon 
Rice's  death  Patrick  had  every  possible  variety  of 
document  necessary  to  possess  himself  of  the  prop- 
erty. Jones  took  nothing  under  any  of  these 
fraudulent  instruments.  Hence  Patrick's  motive 
in  desiring  the  death  of  Rice  is  the  foundation 
stone  of  the  case  against  him.  But  that  Patrick 
desired  and  would  profit  by  Rice's  death  in  no 
way  tends  to  establish  that  Rice  did  not  die  a  nat- 
ural death.  Patrick  would  profit  equally  whether 
Rice  died  by  foul  means  or  natural,  and  the  ques- 
tion as  to  whether  murder  was  'done  must  be  de- 
termined from  other  evidence.  This  is  only  to  be 
found  in  the  confession  of  the  valet  Jones  and  in 
the  testimony  of  the  medical  experts  who  per- 
formed the  autopsy.  Jones,  a  self-confessed  mur- 
derer, swears  that  upon  the  advice  and  under  the 
direction  of  Patrick  (though  in  the  latter's  absence) 
he  killed  his  master  by  administering  chloroform. 
There  is  no  direct  corroborative  evidence  save  that 
of  the  experts.  Upon  Jones's  testimony  depended 
the  question  of  Patrick's  conviction  or  acquittal, 
and  of  itself  this  was  not  sufficient,  for  being  that 
of  an  accomplice  it  must,  under  the  New  York 
law,  be  corroborated. 

283 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

In  the  confession  of  Jones  the  State  had  suffi- 
cient direct  evidence  of  the  crime  and  of  Patrick's 
connection  with  it,  providing  there  was  other  evi- 
dence tending  to  connect  Patrick  with  its  commis- 
sion. This  corroborative  evidence  is  largely  sup- 
plied by  the  facts  which  show  that  for  a  long  time 
Patrick  conspired  with  Jones  to  steal  the  bulk  of 
Mr.  Rice's  estate  at  his  death.  This  evidence  not 
only  shows  Patrick's  possible  motive  for  planning 
Mr.  Rice's  murder,  but  also  tends  to  corroborate 
Jones's  whole  story  of  the  conspiracy. 

Rice  did  not  know  Patrick  even  by  sight.  He 
had  heard  of  him  only  as  a  person  retained  by  an- 
other lawyer  (Holt)  to  do  "the  dirty  work"  in  an 
action  brought  by  Rice  against  Holt,  as  executor, 
to  set  aside  Mrs.  Rice's  will,  in  which  she  assumed, 
under  the  "Community  Law"  of  Texas,  where 
Rice  had  formerly  resided,  to  dispose  of  some 
$2,500,000  of  Rice's  property.  If  Rice  was  a  resi- 
dent of  Texas  she  had  the  legal  right  to  do  this, — 
otherwise  not.  Holt  employed  Patrick  to  get  evi- 
dence that  Rice  still  was  such  a  resident.  Rice 
knew  of  this  and  hated  Patrick. 

Patrick's  connection  with  the  Rice  litigation  had 
begun  four  years  before  the  murder,  which  was 
not  planned  until  August,  1900.  His  first  visit  to 
Rice's  apartment  was  made  under  the  assumed 
name  of  Smith  for  the  purpose  of  discovering 

284 


A  Murder  Conspiracy 

whether  the  valet  could  be  corrupted  into  furnish- 
ing fictitious  proof  of  Rice's  intent  to  reside  in 
Texas.  He  flattered  Jones;  told  him  he  was  under- 
paid and  not  appreciated,  and,  after  a  second  visit, 
at  which  he  disclosed  his  right  name,  persuaded 
him  to  typewrite  a  letter  on  Rice's  stationery  ad- 
dressed to  Baker,  Botts,  Baker  &  Lovett  (Rice's 
attorneys),  in  which  he  should  be  made  to  say 
that  he  had  lost  hope  of  winning  the  suit  against 
Holt,  was  really  a  citizen  of  Texas,  and  wanted 
to  settle  the  litigation.  Patrick  said  that  he  could 
arrange  for  the  signing  of  such  a  letter  and  was 
willing  to  pay  Jones  $250  for  his  help.  Jones 
agreed. 

Patrick  now  learned  that  Mr.  Rice  was  living 
with  no  companion  except  Jones;  that  he  held  little 
communication  with  the  outside  world;  that  the 
valet  was  in  his  confidence  and  thoroughly  familiar 
with  his  papers,  and  that  the  will  made  in  1896 
disinherited  natural  heirs  in  favor  of  an  educational 
institution  which  he  had  founded  in  Texas.  He 
also  learned  that  while  Mr.  Rice  was  84  years  of 
age  he  was  in  possession  of  all  his  faculties,  con- 
ducted his  own  business,  and  might  live  for  years. 
Possessed  of  these  facts  Patrick's  evil  mind  soon 
developed  a  conspiracy  with  Jones  to  secure  the 
whole  estate. 

Mr.  Rice's  pet  chanty  was  the  William  M.  Rice 

285 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Institute  "  for  the  advance  of  science,  art  and  liter- 
ature," of  Texas,  which  he  had  founded  in  1891. 
He  had  donated  to  it  more  than  a  million  and  a 
half  dollars.  By  the  will  of  1896  only  small  lega- 
cies were  bequeathed  to  relatives,  while  the  bulk  of 
his  fortune  was  left  to  the  Institute. 

About  a  month  after  Patrick's  first  visit  to  the 
Berkshire  Apartments,  that  is,  in  December,  1899, 
while  he  and  Jones  were  examining  Rice's  private 
papers,  they  stumbled  upon  the  will.  Patrick  saw 
his  opportunity.  By  the  forgery  of  a  new  will 
which  would  increase  the  legacies  of  those  men- 
tioned in  the  will  of  1896  and  leave  legacies  to 
every  person  who  might  have  any  claim  upon  the 
estate,  it  would  be  for  the  interest  of  those  persons 
to  sustain  and  carry  into  effect  the  forgery.  The 
whole  scheme  was  based  upon  the  belief  that 
"  every  man  has  his  price."  He  told  Jones  that  he 
thought  the  will  unjust;  that  he  did  not  think  it 
right  to  leave  so  little  to  relatives,  and  later  he 
brought  to  Jones  a  rough  draft  of  a  will  which 
could  be  substituted  for  the  genuine  one.  Patrick 
was  to  get  half  the  estate,  the  relatives  were  to  re- 
ceive double  or  three  times  the  amount  provided 
in  the  1896  will,  and  what  was  left  was  to  be  given 
to  the  Rice  Institute.  He  proposed  that  Jones 
should  typewrite  this  will,  and  guaranteed  to  ar- 
range for  the  witnessing  and  signing  of  it,  and 

286 


A  Murder  Conspiracy 

promised  that  Jones  should  get  whatever  he 
wanted.  Jones  at  first  objected,  but  was  finally 
won  over.  Rewritten  many  times  to  include  new 
ideas  of  the  conspirators,  the  document  finally 
reached  the  form  of  the  will  of  June  30,  1900,  in 
which  Patrick  substituted  himself  for  the  Rice 
Institute  and  made  himself  one  of  the  executors. 

An  ingenious  part  of  the  conspiracy  was  the  de- 
cision to  leave  the  1896  will  in  existence.  If  Pat- 
rick had  destroyed  it  and  the  relatives  had  suc- 
ceeded in  overthrowing  the  will  of  1900,  the  estate 
would  have  been  left  without  testamentary  dispo- 
sition and  the  relatives  would  have  got  more  than 
was  provided  by  either  will.  With  the  will  of  1896 
in  existence,  however,  the  relatives  would  get  less 
if  they  overthrew  the  forgery.  By  retaining  it, 
therefore,  Patrick  figured  that  the  relatives  would 
have  selfish  reasons  for  accepting  the  forgery  as 
genuine.  —  ^ 

The  preparation  of  this  bogus  will  occupied 
about  a  month,  and  the  next  question  was  the  pro- 
curement of  witnesses.  It  was  desirable  to  get  the 
same  persons  who  witnessed  the  former  will. 
These  were  Walter  H.  Wetherbee  and  W.  F.  Har- 
mon, clerks  for  many  years  at  Swenson's  banking 
house.  On  the  assumption  that  Wetherbee  had 
been  injured  by  Rice  and  was  therefore  hostile  to 
him,  Jones  practically  unfolded  the  scheme.  He 

287 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

told  Wetherbee  that  one  of  Mr.  Rice's  bonds  had 
disappeared  and  that  Rice  had  accused  Wetherbee 
of  stealing  it.  He  wound  up  with  the  suggestion, 
"I  will  get  one  witness  and  you  can  get  another, 
and  the  thing  is  done."  But  Wetherbee  indig- 
nantly declined  to  join  in  the  conspiracy. 

Morris  Meyers,  who  had  been  employed  in  Pat- 
rick's office,  and  David  L.  Short,  a  friend  of  both, 
were  the  false  witnesses  finally  selected. 

They  were  clothed  with  the  appearance  of  hon- 
esty and  were  brought  into  contact  with  Rice  by 
Jones  at  various  times :  Meyers  as  a  notary  public, 
and  Short  as  commissioner  of  deeds  for  the  State 
of  Texas,  an  appointment  procured  for  him  by 
Patrick  probably  for  this  specific  purpose. 

The  date  of  the  forged  will,  June  30,  1900,  was 
selected  to  correspond  with  the  date  of  three  gen- 
uine papers  which  Rice  acknowledged  before 
Short  on  that  date. 

The  next  step  was  to  obviate  the  absurdity  of 
Patrick's  being  selected  as  the  residuary  legatee  at 
a  time  when  he  was  engaged  in  bitter  litigation 
against  Rice.  The  best  way  out  was  for  Patrick 
to  pose  as  a  lawyer  who  had  brought  about  a  set- 
tlement of  this  expensive  litigation  and  thus  won 
Rice's  regard.  Patrick  first  tried  to  accomplish 
this  by  getting  friends  to  visit  Rice  and  urge  a  set- 
tlement. But  Rice  rebuffed  them  all.  Accord- 

288 


A  Murder  Conspiracy 

ingly,  Patrick  again  resorted  to  forgery,  and  in 
August,  1900,  manufactured  an  instrument  of 
settlement,  dated  March  6,  1900. 

But  such  an  agreement  would  not  explain  the 
paradox  of  a  man  whom  Rice  hated  and  despised 
and  did  not  know  by  sight  turning  up  as  the  prin- 
cipal beneficiary  under  his  will.  It  was  necessary 
to  manufacture  evidence  to  be  used  after  Rice's 
death  in  support  of  his  claim  of  close  relations. 
The  idea  of  a  personal  meeting  with  Rice  had 
been  abandoned  on  Jones's  advice,  and  Patrick 
therefore  caused  the  valet  to  prepare  twenty-five 
or  thirty  forged  letters  addressed  to  him  and  pur- 
porting to  come  from  Rice.  These  referred  to  cur- 
rent business  matters  and  conveyed  the  impression 
that  it  was  Rice's  custom  to  seek  the  lawyer's 
advice.  One  instructed  Patrick  as  to  the  terms  of 
the  will  of  1900.  Carbon  copies  were  made  for 
filing  in  Rice's  letter  book  after  his  death. 

To  make  assurance  doubly  sure  and  to  secure 
immediate  possession  of  Rice's  securities  a  general 
assignment  to  Patrick  of  all  Rice's  estate  was 
forged,  and  an  order  giving  him  access  to  and  pos- 
session of  the  securities  on  deposit  in  Rice's  safety 
vault. 

But  Patrick  did  not  stop  here.  He  procured 
from  Jones  three  checks  signed  by  Mr.  Rice  in  the 
regular  course  of  business,  one  payable  to  Jones 

289 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

for  his  July  salary  and  the  other  two  for  the  July 
and  August  salary  of  an  employee  of  Rice's  in 
Texas  named  Cohn.  These  three  checks  Patrick 
kept  as  models,  forwarding  to  Cohn  two  forged 
checks  filled  out  by  Jones  upon  which  Rice's  sig- 
nature had  been  traced,  and  returning  to  Jones  a 
substitute  check  with  Rice's  signature  traced  upon 
it.  All  three  checks  passed  through  the  banks  un- 
suspected. Traced  signatures  were  also  substituted 
for  genuine  ones  upon  letters  dictated  by  Rice  to 
his  Texas  correspondents.  Thus  Patrick  secured 
the  circulation  of  five  copies  of  Rice's  signature 
which,  if  occasion  demanded,  he  could  produce  as 
standards  of  comparison  to  correspond  with  his 
other  forgeries.  The  principal  preparations  were 
complete.  But  title  under  the  will  might  long  be 
delayed  and  perhaps  even  eventually  fail.  Patrick 
was  poor  and  in  no  condition  to  conduct  adequately 
a  serious  litigation.  The  moment  Mr.  Rice  died 
a  large  amount  of  cash  would  be  necessary.  For 
the  procurement  of  this  Patrick  and  Jones  looked 
to  the  current  balance  of  Rice's  bank  account, 
which  amounted  to  some  two  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  dollars  on  deposit  at  Swenson's  private 
bank  and  at  the  Fifth  Avenue  Trust  Company. 
With  this  they  felt  reasonably  secure  of  success. 
For  even  if  the  will  should  be  set  aside  as  fraudu- 
lent they  had  a  second  line  of  defense  in  the  gen- 

290 


A  Murder  Conspiracy 

eral  assignment  of  the  estate  and  the  orders  to 
Rice's  two  million  five  hundred  thousand  dollars 
of  securities. 

While  the  evidence  affords  a  motive  for  Patrick 
to  desire  the  death  of  Mr.  Rice,  it  does  not  of  it- 
self, up  to  this  point,  indicate  the  slightest  intention 
on  the  part  of  Patrick  to  do  away  with  the  old  gen- 
tleman. It  was  therefore  conceded  by  the  prose- 
cution that,  upon  Jones's  own  testimony,  the  con- 
spiracy to  murder  was  not  formed  until  about 
seven  weeks  before  the  event.  The  first  evidence 
which  points  to  an  intent  to  murder  is  the  famous 
"cremation  letter,"  dated  August  3d. 

The  cremation  letter  from  Mr.  Rice,  authoriz- 
ing Patrick  to  cremate  his  body,  shows  that  Patrick 
intended  to  do  away  with  Rice  in  such  a  way  that 
an  autopsy  must,  if  possible,  be  prevented  and  the 
evidence  of  murder  destroyed.  That  Patrick 
forged  such  a  letter  was  evidence  that  his  connec- 
tion with  the  murder  was  premeditated  and  de- 
liberate. To  cremate  the  body  before  an  autopsy 
it  was  necessary  to  procure  a  physician's  certificate 
that  Rice  had  died  from  natural  causes.  He  there- 
fore made  preparation  to  secure  such  a  certificate, 
and  then  upon  the  strength  of  the  cremation  letter 
to  give  directions  for  the  immediate  destruction  of 
the  body. 

Patrick,  with  the  view  of  having  at  hand  a  physi- 
291 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

cian  who  would  be  unsuspicious,  and  who  would 
issue  a  certificate  of  death  from  natural  causes,  in- 
duced Jones  to  send  for  Dr.  Curry,  his  own  friend 
and  physician,  on  an  occasion  when  the  valet  was 
ill.  This  was  in  March,  1900.  Dr.  Curry  came, 
and  Jones,  acting  under  Patrick's  advice,  cau- 
tioned him  not  to  mention  the  lawyer's  name  to 
Rice.  In  course  of  time  he  saw  Rice,  gained  his 
good  opinion  and  became  his  attending  physician. 
But  Rice  did  not  die,  and  curiously  enough  it  was 
he  himself  who  suggested  to  Jones  the  instrumen- 
tality of  death  which  was  finally  employed,  for  he 
read  an  article  dealing  with  the  dangers  of  chloro- 
form as  an  anaesthetic,  and  discussed  it  with  the 
valet.  This  suggestion  was  conveyed  to  Patrick, 
who  asked  Dr.  Curry  whether  chloroform  left  any 
traces  discoverable  upon  an  autopsy.  Dr.  Curry 
rather  carelessly  replied  that  it  left  but  slight 
traces  if  administered  only  in  the  quantities  which 
would  be  fatal  to  a  man  with  a  weak  heart.  Pat- 
rick told  Jones,  so  Jones  alleges,  to  procure  some 
chloroform  and  this  he  did,  sending  to  Texas  for 
two  bottles  of  two  ounces  each.  From  Dr.  Curry's 
remarks  it  was  manifest  that  a  weakened  condition 
of  the  patient  was  an  important  element,  and  as 
Jones  was  taking  some  mercury  pills  (prescribed 
for  him  by  Dr.  Curry),  the  valet  induced  his  mas- 
ter to  take  some  of  them.  The  old  gentleman  was 

293 


A  Murder  Conspiracy 

benefited,  however,  rather  than  weakened.  This 
was  before  the  forgery  of  the  cremation  letter.  It 
was  clear  that  larger  doses  of  mercury  would  be 
necessary,  and  accordingly  Patrick  furnished 
Jones  with  pellets  containing  the  drug  in  such 
quantities  that  Jones,  experimenting  with  one  of 
them,  became  ill. 

They  had  now  the  means  to  effect  gradual 
death,  but  as  mercury  leaves  traces  discernible  at 
an  autopsy,  it  was  decided  that  the  body  must  be 
cremated  promptly.  Hence  the  cremation  letter. 
It  was  hoped  that  Rice  might  drop  off  at  any 
moment,  owing  to  his  weakened  condition,  and  in 
anticipation  of  death  Patrick  discontinued  his  vis- 
its to  the  apartment  in  order  to  establish  a  satis- 
factory alibi.  Jones  also  frequently  absented  him- 
self from  the  apartment  in  the  evenings  after  the 
old  man  had  fallen  asleep. 

On  September  i6th  Rice  had  an  attack  of  acute 
indigestion,  which  might  have  resulted  seriously 
had  it  not  been  for  the  mercurial  pills  which 
promptly  relieved  him.  The  reader  should  ob- 
serve that  practically  all  of  this  testimony  comes 
from  Jones.  There  is  no  extraneous  evidence  that 
Patrick  induced  the  giving  of  the  mercury.  Pat- 
rick, however,  spread  false  rumors  as  to  Rice's 
general  health  and  also  as  to  his  financial  condi- 
tion and  intentions,  namely,  that  Rice  was  only 

293 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

worth  seven  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars, 
and  that  those  who  expected  he  was  going  to  leave 
his  money  to  the  Institute  were  doomed  to  disap- 
pointment. But  neither  his  statements  about 
Rice's  condition  nor  his  remarks  as  to  the  disposi- 
tion and  extent  of  his  property  are  inconsistent 
with  a  mere  hope  that  he  would  die  and  thus  leave 
Patrick  free  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of  his  forgeries. 

There  now  occurred,  however,  an  event  which 
may  well  have  played  a  part  in  inducing  Patrick 
to  supplement  forgery  by  murder.  On  Sunday, 
September  i6th,  the  plant  of  the  Merchants'  and 
Planters'  Oil  Company  of  Houston,  Texas,  of  which 
Rice  owned  seventy-five  per  cent,  of  the  capital 
stock,  was  destroyed  by  fire.  The  company  being 
without  funds  to  rebuild,  its  directors  telegraphed  to 
Rice  requesting  him  to  advance  the  money.  The 
amount  needed  was  two  hundred  and  fifty  thou- 
sand dollars — and  if  Rice  consented,  all  the  avail- 
able funds  on  deposit  in  the  New  York  banks, 
upon  which  the  conspirators  relied  to  accomplish 
their  object,  would  be  exhausted.  Jones  endeav- 
ored to  dissuade  the  old  man  from  advancing  the 
money,  but  without  effect,  and  Rice  sent  a  letter 
to  Houston  agreeing  to  supply  one  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  dollars  and  more  in  instalments  of 
twenty-five  thousand  dollars  each.  This  was  on 
September  l8th,  after  he  had  wired  to  the  same 

294 


A  Murder  Conspiracy 

effect  on  September  I7th.  Patrick  and  Jones  sup- 
pressed a  telegram  that  Rice  would  advance  two 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars,  and  on  Sep- 
tember I  Qth  the  old  man  received  word  that  the 
first  draft  in  conformity  with  his  telegram  of  Sep- 
tember 1 7th  had  been  drawn  and  would  arrive  in 
New  York  on  the  22d.  Jones  says  that  on  showing 
this  to  Patrick  the  latter  announced  that  Rice  must 
be  put  out  of  the  way  as  soon  as  possible.  Accord- 
ingly, on  September  2Oth  and  2ist,  Jones  admin- 
istered larger  doses  of  mercury  than  usual,  which, 
while  weakening  and  depressing  him,  failed  to 
cause  his  end.  Saturday,  September  22d,  the 
draft  was  presented  at  Rice's  apartment.  The 
old  man  was  not  confined  to  his  bed,  but  Jones 
told  the  bank  messenger,  after  pretending  to  con- 
sult him,  that  Rice  was  too  ill  to  attend  to  business 
that  day  and  to  return  on  Monday.  That  night 
Jones  and  Patrick  met,  and  it  was  agreed  (accord- 
ing to  Jones)  that  Rice  must  not  be  allowed  to 
survive  until  Monday.  They  still  hoped  that  he 
might  die  without  any  further  act  upon  their  part, 
but  Jones  was  informed  by  Dr.  Curry  that,  al- 
though the  old  man  seemed  weak  and  under  a 
great  mental  strain,  he  nevertheless  thought  that 
he  would  recover.  This  Curry  also  told  to  Patrick, 
the  latter  calling  at  the  doctor's  house  about  five 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 

295 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

"You  think  Mr.  Rice  will  be  able  to  go  down 
Monday  morning?"  Patrick  asked. 

"You  had  better  wait  until  Monday  morning 
comes,"  replied  Dr.  Curry. 

"  Do  you  think  he  will  be  able  to  go  down  town 
next  week  ?"  persisted  the  lawyer. 

The  doctor  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

That  night  Mr.  Rice  slept  quietly  until  eight 
o'clock  Sunday  morning.  Dr.  Curry  called  and 
found  him  in  excellent  condition,  having  eaten  a 
hearty  breakfast.  His  heart  was  a  trifle  weak, 
but  it  was  sound.  His  organs  were  all  working 
normally;  he  felt  no  pain.  The  doctor  left  with- 
out prescribing  any  medicine,  stating  that  he 
would  not  return  unless  called,  and  expressing 
his  opinion  that  the  padent  would  recover.  This 
was  about  eleven  o'clock,  and  Jones  immediately 
hastened  to  Patrick's  house  and  reported  the  con- 
versation. 

It  was  clear  that  Rice's  death  would  not  occur 
before  Monday  morning.  He  might  live  to  pay 
over  the  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars; 
long  enough  to  give  further  testimony  in  the  Holt 
litigation,  and  thus  expose  the  whole  fraudulent 
scheme  of  pretended  settlement  and  of  friendly 
relations  with  the  lawyer,  and  finally,  perhaps, 
even  to  make  a  new  will.  The  success  of  the  con- 
spiracy demanded  that  Rice  should  die  that  night. 

296 


A  Murder  Conspiracy 

Did  he  die  naturally  ?  Was  his  death  caused  by  any 
further  act  of  the  conspirators  ?  Did  Jones  kill 
him  by  means  of  chloroform  ? 

Jones's  story  is  that  Patrick  supplied  him  with 
some  oxalic  acid  which  was  to  be  mixed  with  pow- 
dered ammonia  and  diluted  in  water,  on  the  the- 
ory that  it  was  preferable  to  chloroform  since  it 
would  not  require  Jones's  presence  in  the  room  at 
the  moment  of  death.  Jones  said  that  he  endeav- 
ored to  administer  the  mixture  to  the  old  man,  but 
that  he  refused  to  take  it.  Jones  had  already  pro- 
cured the  chloroform  from  Texas,  as  has  been 
stated,  and  had  turned  it  over  to  Patrick.  He  says 
that  that  afternoon  he  procured  this  from  Patrick, 
who  told  him  how  to  administer  it.  This  was  a 
few  moments  after  six  o'clock.  Rice  was  sleeping 
soundly.  The  colored  woman  who  did  the  house- 
work was  absent  for  the  day  and  the  rooms  were 
deserted.  He  saturated  a  sponge  with  chloroform, 
constructed  a  cone  out  of  a  towel,  placed  the  sponge 
in  the  cone,  put  the  cone  over  the  sleeping  man's 
face  and  ran  out  of  the  room  and  waited  thirty 
minutes  for  the  chloroform  to  complete  the  work. 
Waiting  in  the  next  room  he  heard  the  door  bell 
ring,  and  ring  again,  but  he  paid  no  attention  to 
the  summons.  In  point  of  fact  he  was  never  quite 
sure  himself  whether  the  bell  was  not  the  creation 
of  his  own  overwrought  brain.  At  the  end  of  half 

297 


True  Stories  of  Crime 


an  hour  he  returned  to  the  bedroom,  removed  the 
cone  from  Rice's  face  and  saw  that  he  was  dead, 
then  after  burning  the  sponge  and  the  towel  in  the 
kitchen  range  he  opened  the  windows,  straightened 
the  rooms  out,  called  the  elevator  man,  asked  him 
to  send  for  Dr.  Curry,  and  telephoned  to  Patrick 
that  Rice  was  dead. 

Jones  had  no  sooner  telephoned  Patrick  that 
Rice  was  dead  than  the  lawyer  hastened  to  Dr. 
Curry's,  and  within  forty  minutes  appeared  with 
him  in  Rice's  apartments,  assuming  complete 
charge.  Summoning  an  undertaker  and  having 
the  cremation  letter  at  hand,  he  gave  orders  for 
speedy  cremation.  But  he  now  discovered  the 
principal  mistake  in  his  calculations.  He  had 
omitted  to  investigate  the  length  of  time  required 
to  heat  the  crematory.  This  he  now  discovered  to 
his  horror  to  be  twenty-four  hours.  But  the  body 
must  be  destroyed.  The  undertaker  suggested 
that  the  body  might  be  embalmed  while  the  crem- 
atory was  being  heated,  and  Patrick  at  once  seized 
upon  the  suggestion  and  gave  orders  to  that  effect, 
although  the  cremation  letter  sets  forth  specifically 
that  one  of  the  reasons  why  Rice  desired  cremation 
was  his  horror  of  being  embalmed.  The  body 
was  embalmed  at  the  apartments  that  night,  Dr. 
Curry  innocently  supplying  the  certificate  of  death 
from  "old  age  and  weak  heart,"  and  "as  imme- 

208 


A  Murder  Conspiracy 

diate  cause,  indigestion  followed  by  collocratal 
diarrhoea  with  mental  worry.'* 

Having  arranged  for  the  cremation  at  the  earliest 
possible  moment,  Jones  and  Patrick  rifled  the  trunk 
in  which  Rice  kept  his  papers,  and  stuffed  them  in 
a  satchel  which  Patrick  bore  away  with  him. 

The  funeral  was  to  be  held  early  Tuesday  morn- 
ing and  the  ashes  conveyed  by  Jones  to  Milwaukee, 
to  be  interred  near  the  body  of  Rice's  wife,  while 
the  relatives  should  not  be  notified  until  it  should 
be  too  late  for  them  to  reach  New  York. 

The  next  step  was  to  secure  the  two  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  dollars  which  Rice  had  on  de- 
posit. Patrick  had  already  forged  Rice's  name  to 
blank  checks  on  Swenson  and  the  Fifth  Avenue 
Trust  Company.  Early  Monday  morning  Jones, 
with  Patrick  looking  over  his  shoulder  and  direct- 
ing him,  filled  out  the  body  of  the  checks,  which 
covered  all  but  ten  thousand  dollars  of  Rice's  de- 
posits. These  consisted  of  one  for  twenty-five 
thousand  dollars  and  one  for  sixty-five  thousand 
dollars  on  Swenson,  one  for  twenty-five  thousand 
dollars  and  another  for  one  hundred  and  thirty- 
five  thousand  dollars  on  the  Trust  Company. 
They  were  all  made  payable  to  the  order  of  Patrick 
and  dated  September  22d,  the  day  before  Rice's 
death.  One  of  the  drafts  on  the  Fifth  Avenue 
Trust  Company  was  cashed  for  him  by  a  friend 

299 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

named  Potts  early  Monday  morning,  and  was  paid 
without  suspicion. 

But  now  came  the  second  error,  which  resulted 
in  the  exposure  of  the  conspiracy  and  conviction 
for  murder.  Jones,  in  filling  out  the  twenty-five 
thousand  dollar  check  on  Swenson,  had  in  his  ner- 
vousness omitted  the  "1"  from  Patrick's  Christian 
name,  so  that  the  check  read  "Abert  T.  Patrick," 
and  Patrick  in  his  excitement  had  failed  to  notice 
the  omission  or  attempt  to  obviate  it  by  extra  in- 
dorsement. This  twenty-five  thousand  dollar 
Swenson  check  was  intrusted  to  David  L.  Short 
for  presentation  to  Swenson  &  Sons  for  certifica- 
tion. When  he  presented  it,  Wallace,  the  clerk, 
recognized  Jones's  handwriting  in  the  body  of  it, 
and  thought  the  signature  looked  unnatural.  He 
took  it  to  a  rear  office,  where  he  showed  it  to  Weth- 
erbee,  who  was  the  person  whom  Jones  had  ap- 
proached nine  months  before  with  a  request  that 
he  join  the  conspiracy  to  manufacture  a  bogus  will. 
Wetherbee  compared  the  signature  on  the  check 
with  genuine  signatures  in  the  bank,  and  returned 
it  to  Short  without  any  intimation  that  he  regarded 
it  as  irregular,  but  assigning  as  the  reason  the  defect 
in  the  indorsement.  Short  thereupon  returned  the 
check  to  Patrick,  who  supplied  the  necessary  sup- 
plementary indorsement  and  telephoned  to  Jones 
what  had  occurred,  instructing  him  to  say  that  the 

300 


A  Murder  Conspiracy 

check  was  all  right  in  case  the  Swensons  should 
inquire. 

Half  an  hour  later  Short  returned  to  Swenson's, 
where  the  check  was  examined  by  one  of  the  firm. 
Rice's  apartments  were  then  called  up,  and  Jones 
said  that  the  checks  were  all  right.  But  this  did  not 
satisfy  Mr.  Swenson,  so  he  instructed  Wallace  to 
call  up  the  apartment  again  and  insist  on  talking 
to  Mr.  Rice.  Jones  delayed  replying  to  Wallace 
and  in  the  afternoon  called  up  Patrick  on  the  tele- 
phone, inquiring  what  he  should  say.  Patrick  re- 
plied that  he  would  have  to  say  that  Rice  was  dead. 
And  in  accordance  with  this  Jones  informed  Swen- 
son that  Rice  had  died  at  eight  o'clock  the  previous 
evening.  It  was  thus  clear  to  Swenson  that  although 
the  maker  of  the  check  was  dead,  Patrick,  a  law- 
yer, cognizant  of  that  fact,  was  seeking  to  secure 
payment  upon  it.  For  Jones  had  told  Swenson 
that  he  had  reported  Rice's  death  to  the  doctor 
and  to  Rice's  lawyer,  Patrick. 

Patrick,  accompanied  by  Potts,  went  immediate- 
ly to  the  bank,  where  Swenson  informed  him  that 
the  check  could  be  paid  only  to  the  administrator. 
Patrick  replied  that  there  would  be  no  administra- 
tor; that  Rice  had  left  no  property  in  this  State,  and 
informed  Swenson  that  he  had  an  assignment  by 
Rice  to  himself  of  all  Rice's  securities  with  Swen- 
son. He  also  invited  Swenson  to  the  funeral, 

301 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Later  in  the  day  Patrick  attempted  to  obtain 
possession  of  Rice's  securities  in  the  Safety  De- 
posit Company  and  in  the  Fifth  Avenue  Trust 
Company,  by  presenting  forged  instruments  of 
transfer  and  the  orders  heretofore  referred  to;  but 
after  some  delay  the  trust  companies  declined  him 
access.  The  conspiracy  had  begun  to  go  to  pieces. 
The  two  mistakes  and  the  failure  to  secure  funds 
placed  Patrick  in  a  dangerous  position. 

Two  o'clock  on  Monday  afternoon,  eighteen 
hours  after  the  death,  Jones,  at  Patrick's  direction, 
began  to  notify  the  relatives  that  Rice  had  died  the 
evening  before,  and  that  the  funeral  would  take 
place  the  following  morning.  The  telegrams  to 
Baker  and  to  Rice,  Jr.,  in  Texas,  were  in  the  fol- 
lowing extraordinary  form : 

Mr.  Rice  died  eight  o'clock  last  night  under  care  of 
physicians.  Death  certificate,  "old  age,  weak  heart,  de- 
lirium." Left  instructions  to  be  interred  in  Milwaukee 
with  wife.  Funeral  10  A.  M.  to-morrow  at  500  Madison 
Avenue. 

It  is  significant  that  care  was  used  to  convey  the 
information  that  the  death  was  a  natural  one  with 
a  physician  in  attendance;  that  the  body  was  to  be 
interred  in  Milwaukee,  without  reference  to  the 
cremation.  This  may  well  have  been  so  that  if  any 
suspicions  of  foul  play  should  arise,  the  recipients, 

302 


A  Murder  Conspiracy 

realizing  that  they  could  not  reach  New  York  in 
time  to  arrest  matters  there,  might  hasten  to  Mil- 
waukee to  intercept  the  body,  where  they  could  be 
met  by  Jones  with  the  cremation  letter  in  his  pock- 
et and  his  urn  of  ashes  under  his  arm. 

But  the  telegram  did  arouse  suspicion,  and  Baker 
and  Rice  immedately  wired  Jones  as  follows : 

Please  make  no  disposition  of  Rice's  remains  until  we 
arrive.  We  leave  to-night,  arrive  New  York  Thursday 
morning. 

Baker  also  instructed  N.  A.  Meldrum,  a  Texan 
then  in  New  York,  to  co-operate  with  Jones  in  pre- 
serving everything  intact. 

In  the  meantime,  however,  Swenson  had  noti- 
fied his  attorneys,  who  in  turn  had  informed  the 
police  and  the  District  Attorney's  office,  and  that 
evening  at  about  eleven  o'clock  James  W.  Gerard, 
accompanied  by  a  detective,  who  posed  as  the  law- 
yer's clerk,  interviewed  Patrick  at  his  home.  Pat- 
rick informed  Gerard  that  he  had  an  assignment  of 
all  Rice's  property  and  also  a  will  of  Rice's  of  which 
he  was  executor.  This  was  the  first  reference  to  the 
will  of  1900.  He  also  informed  Gerard  that  he 
would  not  receive  a  cent  under  its  provision.  To 
have  explained  the  real  terms  of  the  will  would, 
under  the  circumstances,  have  excited  too  much 
suspicion.  Yet  he  was  eager  to  let  the  Swensons 

3°3 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

know  that  as  executor  he  was  in  a  position  to  con- 
trol the  profitable  banking  business  that  would 
arise  from  the  settlement  of  the  estate.  In  the 
meantime  four  Headquarters'  detectives,  repre- 
senting themselves  as  lawyers,  visited  the  apart- 
ments. 

Patrick  hurried  to  500  Madison  Avenue,  where 
he  learned  of  Meldrum's  presence  in  town.  Things 
were  turning  out  far  from  the  way  in  which  he  had 
expected.  He  then  hastened  to  his  office  down- 
town, which  he  reached  about  half-past  one  in  the 
morning,  and,  alone,  destroyed  great  quantities  of 
paper,  attempting  to  dispose  of  them  through  the 
toilet  bowl,  which  was  so  clogged  that  the  water 
flowed  out  upon  the  floor,  necessitating  an  apology 
to  the  janitor.  In  the  silence  of  the  night  misgiv- 
ings came  upon  him.  He  lost  his  nerve,  and  at  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning  called  up  the  undertaker 
and  revoked  the  signed  order  for  cremation  which 
he  had  given.  Leaving  the  office  at  about  five  in 
the  morning  he  first  visited  Meyers,  thence  pro- 
ceeded to  his  own  boarding-house,  and  from  there 
went  to  the  apartments,  which  he  reached  at  eight 
o'clock.  Here  he  found  the  detectives  who  had 
been  on  guard  since  early  morning  to  forestall  any 
attempt  to  remove  the  body. 

At  the  funeral  itself  he  attempted  to  conciliate 
adverse  interests  and  to  win  witnesses  for  his  pur- 

3°4 


A  Murder  Conspiracy 

pose.  He  had  begun  to  do  this  the  very  night  that 
Rice  had  died,  when  he  told  the  elevator  man  that 
he  was  remembered  in  Rice's  will.  He  had  also 
informed  Wetherbee  that  he  had  a  five  thousand 
dollars'  legacy.  At  the  funeral  were  Blynn,  one  of 
Rice's  nephews,  who  had  come  on  from  Massa- 
chusetts, and  two  ladies,  to  each  of  whom  he  stated 
that  they  had  legacies  which  would  soon  be  avail- 
able provided  there  was  no  contest  of  the  will. 

The  detectives  now  informed  Patrick  that  he 
was  wanted  at  Headquarters,  and  Patrick  invited 
Potts  to  accompany  him,  informing  the  latter  that 
the  police  suspected  that  there  was  something  un- 
natural in  the  cause  of  death,  but  that  he  could  ex- 
plain satisfactorily.  As  a  matter  of  fact  no  such 
intimation  had  been  made  to  him  by  the  police  or 
anyone  else.  At  Police  Headquarters  after  an  in- 
terview with  Inspector  McClusky  he  was  permitted 
to  go  his  way. 

Patrick  returned  to  Rice's  apartments,  sent  for 
Short  and  Meyers,  and  conferred  with  them  there. 
He  took  this  occasion  to  tell  Maria  Scott,  the  col- 
ored woman  who  worked  in  the  apartment,  that 
she  was  suspected  of  having  poisoned  Rice,  and 
that  she  had  better  say  nothing  about  his  death. 
Jones  told  her  that  she  was  remembered  in  the  will 
and  that  it  would  be  worth  her  while  to  stand  by 
himself  and  Patrick,  who  would  see  that  she  was 

305 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

taken  cafe  of.     Meanwhile  the  coroner  had  sent 
the  body  to  the  morgue  for  autopsy. 

The  autopsy  was  performed  on  Tuesday,  forty- 
three  hours  after  death  occurred,  by  Dr.  Donlin,  a 
coroner's  physician,  in  the  presence  of  Dr.  Wil- 
liams, also  a  coroner's  physician,  and  of  Professor 
R.  A.  Witthaus,  an  expert  chemist.  The  two  physi- 
cians testified  at  the  trial  that  the  organs  of  the 
body,  except  the  lungs,  were  normal  in  condition, 
save  as  affected  by  the  embalming  fluid.  They 
and  Professor  Witthaus  agreed  in  their  testimony 
that  the  lungs  were  congested.  Dr.  Donlin  spoke 
of  their  being  "congested  all  over";  while  Dr. 
Williams  characterized  it  as  "  an  intense  congestion 
of  the  lungs — coextensive  with  them."  Outside  of 
the  lungs  they  found  no  evidence  of  disease  to  ac- 
count for  death,  and  beyond  the  congestion  these 
showed  nothing  except  a  small  patch  of  con- 
solidated tissue  about  the  size  of  a  twenty-five  cent 
piece.  They  testified,  in  effect,  that  nothing  save 
the  inhalation  of  some  gaseous  irritant  could  have 
produced  such  a  general  congestion,  and  that  the 
patch  of  tissue  referred  to  was  insufficient  to  ac- 
count for  the  amount  of  congestion  present.  Dr. 
Donlin  could  not  testify  what  the  proximate  cause 
of  death  was,  but  was  firm  in  his  opinion  that  no 
cause  for  it  was  observable  in  the  other  vital  organs. 
In  this  Dr.  Williams  concurred.  He  was  of  the 

306 


A  Murder  Conspiracy 

opinion  that  chloroform  would  act  as  an  irritant 
upon  the  lungs  and  cause  precisely  that  general 
congestion  observable  in  the  case  of  the  deceased. 
Professor  Witthaus  testified  that  his  analysis  re- 
vealed the  presence  of  mercury,  obtained  as  calo- 
mel, and  while  the  amount  was  not  sufficient  to 
cause  death,  its  presence  indicated  that  a  larger 
quantity  had  existed  in  life.  The  embalming  fluid 
had  contained  no  mercury,  and  he  and  Dr.  Donlin 
agreed  that  the  embalming  fluid  would  have  no 
effect  upon  the  lungs  beyond  a  tendency  to  bleach 
them.  In  other  words,  the  People's  evidence  was 
to  the  effect  that  no  cause  of  death  was  observable 
from  a  medical  examination  of  the  body  save  the 
congestion  stated  to  exist  in  the  lungs,  and  that  this 
might  have  been  caused  by  chloroform. 

Thursday  morning  Mr.  Baker  and  F.  A.  Rice, 
the  brother  of  the  deceased,  arrived  in  New  York. 
Patrick  showed  them  the  cremation  letter,  and,  inas- 
much as  they  took  a  neutral  position  in  the  matter, 
ordered  the  cremation  to  proceed,  and  accordingly 
it  took  place  that  very  day.  He  also  endeavored  to 
win  the  confidence  of  Baker,  but  succeeded  in  ac- 
complishing little.  He  finally  gave  the  latter  a  copy 
of  the  1900  will  and  the  original  will  of  1896.  He 
also  informed  Baker  that  he  had  taken  a  large 
number  of  papers  from  Rice's  apartments,  and 
turned  over  to  him  a  considerable  number  of  them. 

3°7 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

He  also  surrendered  on  Friday  the  two  Swenson 
checks. 

After  considerable  discussion  Baker  told  Patrick 
flatly  that  he  would  never  consent  to  the  probate  of 
the  1900  will;  that  he  was  satisfied  that  the  '96  will 
was  the  last  will  of  Rice,  and  that  he  would  insist 
upon  its  being  probated,  to  which  Patrick  replied, 
that  so  far  as  he  was  concerned  he  did  not  know 
but  that  the  probate  of  the  '96  will  would  suit  him 
just  as  well  as  the  probate  of  the  1900  will;  that  it 
was  a  matter  of  indifference  to  him,  and  that  so  far 
as  the  Rice  Institute  was  concerned  he  was  pre- 
pared to  give  Baker  from  three  to  five  million  dol- 
lars for  it,  or  any  other  sum  Baker  might  name. 
These  negotiations  and  conferences  continued 
until  the  fourth  of  October,  Patrick  yielding  step 
by  step,  until  he  had  divested  himself  of  all  control 
of  the  documents  and  securities. 

Meantime  sufficient  evidence  having  been  se- 
cured, Patrick  and  Jones  were  arrested  on  a  charge 
of  forgery  and  held  for  the  Grand  Jury.  Bail  was 
fixed  at  ten  thousand  dollars  each,  but  was  not 
forthcoming. 

On  October  2ist,  Mr.  House,  Patrick's  lawyer, 
visited  Patrick  and  Jones  in  the  Tombs.  Jones 
says  that  after  Patrick  had  talked  to  Mr.  House 
the  former  called  Jones  to  one  corner  of  the  room 
and  told  him  that  House  insisted  on  knowing  defi- 

308 


A  Murder  Conspiracy 

nitely  whether  a  crime  had  been  committed  and 
directed  Jones  to  tell  House  that  a  murder  had 
been  committed,  but  that  he  (Patrick)  was  not 
concerned  in  it.  This  Jones  declined  to  do  with- 
out implicating  Patrick.  The  two  prisoners  then 
returned  to  House  and  Jones  says  that  he  informed 
House  that  he  had  killed  Rice  by  chloroform,  and 
gave  him  the  "same  story  which  he  told  on  the 
witness  stand."  After  this  Jones  apparently  lost 
his  nerve  and  told  Patrick  that  he  intended  to 
commit  suicide.  This  idea  Patrick  encouraged, 
agreeing  that  they  should  both  do  it  at  about  the 
same  time. 

On  the  26th  of  October  Jones  made  a  statement 
to  Assistant  District  Attorney  Osborne  which  was 
in  large  part  false,  and  in  which  he  endeavored  to 
exonerate  himself  entirely  from  complicity  in  any  of 
the  crimes,  and  in  which  he  charged  the  actual  ad- 
ministration of  the  chloroform  to  Patrick.  Four 
days  later  Osborne  sent  for  him  and  told  him  he 
had  lied,  upon  which  Jones  became  confused, 
continued  to  persist  in  some  of  his  statements, 
qualified  others  and  withdrew  still  others.  He  was 
completely  unnerved  and  that  night  attempted,  by 
means  of  a  knife  which  Patrick  had  supplied  him, 
to  cut  his  throat.  The  attempt  was  a  failure,  and 
he  was  removed  to  Bellevue  Hospital,  where  he  re- 
mained until  November  I2th.  He  then  finally 

309 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

gave  the  statement  which  corresponded  with  his 
testimony  upon  the  trial  and  which  jibed  with  all 
the  circumstances  and  evidence  known  to  the 
District  Attorney. 

Did  Patrick  conspire  with  Jones  to  murder  Rice  ? 
What  corroboration  is  there  of  Jones's  story  that 
he  killed  Rice  under  Patrick's  direction?  First: 
What  proof  is  there  that  murder  was  committed  ? 

Roughly,  that  Jones  so  swore;  that  Rice  died 
at  the  time  alleged;  that  he  did  not  die  from  dis- 
ease, but  that  he  died  from  a  congestion  of  the 
lungs  which  could  have  occurred  only  in  the  case 
of  a  living  organism  by  the  administration  of  some 
such  irritant  as  chloroform;  that  some  one,  there- 
fore, must  have  killed  him,  and  that  Jones  alone 
had  the  opportunity. 

Second:  What  proof  is  there  that  Patrick  di- 
rected the  murder  ? 

Evidence  of  an  elaborate  conspiracy,  as  briefly 
heretofore  set  forth,  which  contemplated  the  death 
of  Rice.  Of  course  Patrick  wanted  Rice  to  die. 
If  Patrick  was  not  implicated  in  the  killing,  what 
motive  had  Jones  to  commit  the  deed  ?  Why  did 
Rice  die  at  the  precise  psychological  moment  which 
would  enable  Patrick  to  prevent  two  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  dollars  on  deposit  being  diverted  to 
Texas.  And  finally,  why  did  Patrick  prepare  a 
forged  cremation  letter  for  the  destruction  of  the 

310 


A  Murder  Conspiracy 

body  ?  If  the  conspiracy  contemplated  a  natural 
death,  nothing  could  be  of  greater  value  to  the  two 
parties  concerned  than  the  means  of  proving  that 
the  death  was  not  unnatural. 

This,  in  the  most  abbreviated  form,  is  the  case 
against  Patrick.  Space  forbids  any  reference  to 
his  elaborate  and  ingenious  defense,  which  was 
based  entirely  on  an  alleged  complete  failure  of 
corroboration  of  Jones's  testimony.  Starting  with 
the  premise  that  the  word  of  a  self-confessed 
murderer  and  thrice-perjured  scoundrel  was  value- 
less as  proof,  he  contended  that  there  was  no 
adequate  evidence  that  Rice's  death  was  felonious, 
and  that  the  congestion  of  the  lungs  could  have 
been  and  was  caused  by  the  embalming  fluid  and 
was  only  attributed  to  the  chloroform  after  Jones 
had  given  his  final  version  of  how  the  murder  was 
accomplished.  Technically  the  case  against  Patrick 
was  not  a  strong  one.  Dramatically  it  was  over- 
whelming. His  own  failure  to  testify  and  his  re- 
fusal to  allow  his  lawyer,  Mr.  House,  to  relate 
what  passed  between  them  in  the  Tombs,  remain 
significant,  although  not  evidence  proper  for  a  jury 
to  consider.  Wherever  lawyers  shall  get  together, 
there  the  Patrick  case  will  be  discussed  with  its 
strong  points  and  its  weak  ones,  its  technicalities 
and  its  tactics,  and  the  ethics  of  the  liberation  of 
Jones,  the  actual  murderer,  now  long  since  van- 

3" 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

ished  into  the  obscurity  from  which  he  came.  On 
the  one  hand  stands  a  public  convinced  of  Pat- 
rick's guilt,  and  on  the  other  the  convicted  "lifer" 
pointing  a  lean  finger  at  the  valet  Jones  and  stub- 
bornly repeating,  "  I  am  innocent." 


312 


THE  DOWNFALL  OF  A 
CRIMINAL  LAWYER 


XI 


The  Downfall  of  a  Criminal 
Lawyer 

THE  career  of  Abraham  H.  Hummel,  who,  in 
the  language  of  District  Attorney  Jerome, 
was  "for  twenty  years  a  menace  to  the  commu- 
nity," ended  with  his  conviction  for  conspiracy  and 
his  imprisonment  in  the  penitentiary  on  Black- 
well's  Island  in  1907.  During  that  period  it  is  safe 
to  say  that  he  and  his  partner,  Howe,  under  the 
firm  name  of  Howe  &  Hummel,  were  more  widely 
known,  both  in  this  country  and  in  England,  than 
any  other  members  of  the  American  bar.  Howe, 
who  was  a  man  of  slight  legal  ability  but  of  some 
natural  eloquence,  was  prominent  in  the  criminal 
courts  when  Hummel  first  entered  his  employ  as 
an  office-boy.  Hummers  preceptor  took  a  fancy 
to  him  from  the  start,  and  from  that  time  until  his 
death  always  called  and  referred  to  his  diminutive 
ally  as  "Little  Abey."  Three  years  later  was 
formed  the  famous  partnership,  the  very  mention 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

of  whose  name  speedily  became  enough  to  cause  a 
shiver  to  run  down  the  spine  of  many  of  New 
York's  most  conspicuous  citizens. 

Howe  &  Hummers  office  in  full  action  was  one 
of  the  sights  of  the  city.  Situated  in  an  old-fash- 
ioned, red-brick  edifice  at  the  southwest  corner  of 
Centre  and  Leonard  Streets,  and  directly  in  the 
shadow  of  the  Tombs,  it  arrested  the  glance  of  all 
who  passed,  by  a  mammoth  sign  running  across 
the  front  and  side  of  the  building.  Its  creaking 
door  stood  open  for  all  comers,  and  many  there 
were  who  passed  in  thereat.  Inside  a  catacomb  of 
dingy  offices  hung  the  webs  of  these  legal  spiders 
whose  invisible  threads  ran  into  the  homes  of  many 
of  the  supposedly  good  and  great.  No  carpets 
absorbed  the  dirt  of  the  floors;  the  windows  were 
never  washed;  chairs  and  tables  stood  in  reckless 
angularity;  law-books  lay  torn  and  half  opened 
upon  the  floors;  and  a  flock  of  process-servers, 
clerks,  messengers,  and  all  sorts  of  hangers-on 
loitered  in  the  outer  room  and  threw  terror  into 
the  hearts  of  prospective  clients.  Outside,  the 
street  would  be  crowded  with  cabs  and*  carriages, 
while  the  waiting-rooms  were  filled  with  actresses, 
injured  husbands,  and  members  of  the  demi- 
monde, although  the  clients  of  this  distinguished 
firm  were  by  no  means  all  drawn  from  the  lower 
orders  of  society. 

316 


The  Downfall  of  a  Criminal  Lawyer 

Amid  this  clientele  Hummel  was  in  his  element. 
There  was  always  some  way  to  beat  a  case  "  on  the 
facts  " — or  to  make  a  case.  Of  law  he  knew,  and 
knows,  nothing.  It  is  his  boast  that  in  twenty-five 
years  he  has  not  opened  a  law-book  three  times. 
Yet  he  and  Howe,  it  is  alleged,  made  and  squan- 
dered millions. 

They  kept  no  books,  all  payments  being  re- 
quired to  be  made  in  cash,  on  the  spot,  and  as  fast 
as  the  money  was  handed  over  they  stuffed  it  in 
their  pockets.  At  five  o'clock  daily  the  firm  ad- 
journed to  a  near-by  saloon,  disgorged,  and  "div- 
vied." But  apart  from  a  handsome  weekly  stipend 
to  his  sister,  Hummers  money  all  went  into  the 
Tenderloin  or  the  race-track,  and  to-day  he  has  not 
a  penny  in  the  world. 

Of  the  two,  Howe  was  the  more  interesting  char- 
acter, and  his  loud,  pompous  voice  and  his  extraor- 
dinary clothes  made  him  conspicuous  in  any  court. 
The  writer  once  prosecuted  a  murder  case  which 
Howe  was  defending.  He  was  arrayed  (it  was 
winter)  in  an  outing-costume  of  light  material, 
with  brown  checks  fully  two  inches  in  diameter. 
He  wore  no  necktie,  but  in  lieu  thereof  a  pin  rep- 
resenting an  eagle,  and  composed  of  rubies,  sap- 
phires, and  pearls.  Diamonds  sparkled  down  his 
shirt-front,  and  he  had  rings  on  his  fingers  and 

bells no,  he  only  had  on  yachting  shoes  and  a 

31? 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

blue  cap  trimmed  with  gold  braid  and  brass  but- 
tons. He  cross-examined  no  witnesses,  but  when- 
ever one  gave  a  particularly  damaging  bit  of  testi- 
mony against  his  client  he  groaned  with  a  mixture 
of  pathos  and  incredulity. 

"  I  like  diamonds,"  he  used  to  say.  "  I  love  their 
glitter  and  sparkle." 

"  Little  Abey,"  on  the  other  hand,  was  modest  in 
his  attire;  and  while,  as  his  friends  used  to  call 
him,  a  "neat  dresser,"  he  never  courted  exterior 
notoriety.  Howe  wore  a  gold  watch-chain  like  the 
main  cable  of  a  battle-ship,  Hummel  a  slender 
thread  across  his  attenuated  bosom. 

"  Big  Bill"  Howe  has  been  dead  these  five  years, 
but  his  coffin  must  have  been  strong  indeed  to  pre- 
vent his  rising  up  to  the  defense  of  his  "Little 
Abey."  Had  he  been  alive  some  things  might 
have  happened  before  his  little  partner  was  com- 
pelled to  don  the  striped  overalls  which  are  to-day 
his  severest  trial.  For  Hummel  always  wore  the 
daintiest  of  pointed  patent-leather  shoes  and  slen- 
der broadcloth  trousers. 

A  book,  nay,  twenty  books,  could  be  written  of 
these  two  men,  and  would  Hummel  speak  he 
could  a  tale  unfold  whose  lightest  word  would 
make  the  quills  rise  not  only  on  the  fretful  porcu- 
pine, but  on  the  heads  of  several  thousand 
pleasure-loving  dames  and  gentles  not  half  a  mile 

318 


The  Downfall  of  a  Criminal  Lawyer 

from  Broadway.  But  enough;  this  is  the  story  of 
a  single  crime. 

The  case  against  Hummel  arose  in  this  wise.  In 
the  year  1877  Charles  Foster  Dodge,  who  later 
became  the  central  figure  in  the  criminal  proceed- 
ings against  the  lawyer,  married  Clemence  Chrys- 
tie  Cowles,  in  San  Francisco.  Dodge  was  thirty- 
two  years  old,  had  been  engaged  in  the  hotel  busi- 
ness for  a  number  of  years,  and  at  the  time  of  his 
marriage  was  manager  of  the  Palace  Hotel.  For 
the  next  twelve  years  the  two  led  a  somewhat  un- 
happy life  together,  and  finally  separated,  Mrs. 
Dodge  to  keep  a  lodging-house  in  New  York,  and 
her  husband  to  return  to  his  semi-nomadic  occu- 
pation of  hotel  man.  Between  1889  and  1897, 
a  period  during  which  his  life  was  not  above  re- 
proach, Dodge  was  successively  manager  of  vari- 
ous hotels,  a  conductor  on  the  Southern  Railroad, 
and  eventually  a  part  owner  of  a  restaurant  in 
Atlanta. 

In  March,  1897,  Mrs.  Dodge  decided  to  divorce 
her  husband,  and  employed  as  her  counsel  for  that 
purpose  William  A.  Sweetzer,  of  New  York.  A 
referee  was  appointed  to  hear  the  evidence,  and 
before  him  Sweetzer  swore  that  he  had  personally 
served  the  summons  in  the  action  on  Dodge,  the 
defendant,  at  the  Everett  House,  corner  of  Fourth 
Avenue  and  Seventeenth  Street,  New  York,  on 

319 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

March  31,  1897.  This  was  the  point  in  denying 
which  Dodge  subsequently  perjured  himself.  A 
lawyer  named  Ruger  appeared  for  the  defendant; 
but,  the  evidence  of  Dodge's  infidelity  not  being 
controverted,  the  referee  reported  in  favor  of  the 
divorce,  and  it  was  granted.  By  the  terms  of  the 
decree  Clemence  Dodge  was  given  the  right  to 
marry  again.  In  his  report  the  referee  specifically 
found  that  "all  the  jurisdictional  facts  were  prop- 
erly proved." 

In  June,  1901,  Mrs.  Dodge,  never  doubting  her 
entire  right  to  do  so,  and  relying  implicitly  upon 
the  validity  and  propriety  of  her  divorce,  married 
Charles  W.  Morse,  of  New  York,  a  widower  with 
four  children,  whose  first  wife  had  died  in  1897. 
Morse  was  a  busy  capitalist  interested  in  various 
enterprises,  and  it  appeared  that  he  neglected  to 
inform  his  sister  and  children,  who  lived  in  Maine, 
of  his  matrimonial  venture  until  a  week  before  the 
ceremony  took  place. 

The  question  of  how  far  the  marriage  was  actu- 
ally displeasing  to  Morse's  family  is  important  in 
determining  what  hidden  motives,  if  any,  lay  be- 
hind the  extraordinary  legal  proceedings  which 
took  place  later  on.  At  Hummers  trial  Morse 
testified  under  oath  that  the  members  of  his  family 
were  hostile  to  his  marriage  and  showed  their  dis- 
approval in  their  attitude  toward  him.  "That 

320 


The  Downfall  of  a  Criminal  Lawyer 

manner  toward  me  obtained  from  the  time  they 
first  learned  that  I  had  married  this  woman.  They 
never  lived  where  this  second  wife  could  act  in  the 
relation  or  capacity  of  a  mother  to  them." 

But,  according  to  Morse,  and  even  more  accord- 
ing to  himself,  the  relative  most  actively  opposed 
to  the  marriage  was  "Uncle"  or  "Captain"  James 
T.  Morse,  of  Boston,  a  retired  sea-captain,  who 
was  treasurer  of  several  enterprises  in  which  his 
nephew  was  interested.  Apparently  "Uncle  Jim" 
was  against  the  whole  thing,  for  he  swore  that  his 
one  object  in  life  from  that  time  on  (he  was  then 
only  sixty-four)  became  to  break  up  his  nephew's 
second  matrimonial  enterprise.  Now,  why  "Uncle 
Jim"  should  have  been  so  anxious  to  unmake  this 
marriage  does  not  appear,  and  no  satisfying  reason 
therefore  has  ever  yet  been  made  public.  He  was 
not  only  on  good  terms  with  his  forty-nine-year- 
old  nephew,  but  also  more  or  less  dependent  on  his 
good  will,  and  so  far  as  can  be  learned  he  knew 
nothing  about  the  second  Mrs.  Morse  to  justify  his 
antipathy.  Moreover,  although  he  spent  an  enor- 
mous sum  of  money  in  a  fruitless  attempt  to  rid 
his  nephew  of  the  lady,  it  is  said  by  some  who 
claim  to  know  that  his  purse  was  lean  and  the  fist 
which  held  it  somewhat  tight. 

Save  as  a  matter  of  speculative  interest,  how- 
ever, the  exact  cause  of  "Captain  Jim's"  extraor- 

321 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

dinary  and  somewhat  belated  antagonism  is  im- 
material, and  it  is  sufficient  to  record  that  after  a 
period  of  two  years,  during  which,  so  far  as  is 
known,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Morse  lived  happily  to- 
gether, "Uncle  Jim"  suddenly  made  up  his  mind 
to  find  some  flaw  in  the  link  which  bound  his 
nephdw  and  the  new  wife  together. 

The  worthy  sea-captain  swore  at  Hummers  trial 
that  it  was  all  his  fault,  that  he  had  wantonly  burst 
into  a  silent  sea  of  conjugal  felicity,  and,  in  a  word, 
that  there  was  no  "nigger  in  the  wood-pile."  He 
alleged  that  he  had  "heard  rumors"  that  Mrs. 
Morse's  divorce  from  Dodge  was  illegal  and  irreg- 
ular— why  or  from  whom  he  did  not  specify — and 
protested  that  until  he  had  actually  consulted 
Hummel  he  had  no  idea  that  there  was  anything 
wrong  so  far  as  the  service  of  the  original  summons 
upon  Dodge  was  concerned. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  we  find  him  in  Hummers 
office  in  August,  1903,  instructing  the  lawyer  to 
find  out  if  Mrs.  Dodge's  divorce  from  her  husband 
could  not  be  set  aside,  and  thus  his  nephew's 
marriage  to  her  be  invalidated.  A  few  days  later 
Hummel  called  up  "Captain  Jim"  on  the  long- 
distance telephone  in  Boston  and  informed  the  sea- 
captain  that  he  had  looked  up  the  Dodge-Dodge 
divorce  papers,  that  they  were  shockingly  irregu- 
lar, and  that  the  best  thing  "Captain  Jim"  could 

322 


The  Downfall  of  a  Criminal  Lawyer 

do  would  be  to  come  right  over  to  New  York 
with  fifteen  thousand  dollars.  According  to  his 
own  story,  the  Captain  rushed  at  once  to  the  bank, 
drew  out  fifteen  thousand  dollars,  and  started  for 
New  York,  where  he  handed  the  money  to  Hum- 
mel and  gave  him  orders  to  upset  the  Morse  mar- 
riage if  he  could.  Then  for  a  time  "Uncle  Jim" 
disappeared  from  the  case,  and  Hummel  started 
in  to  earn  his  money. 

On  September  3,  1903,  Dodge,  who  was  run- 
ning a  restaurant  in  Atlanta,  received  a  telegram, 
signed  "Edward  M.  Bracken,"  inviting  him  to 
dine  at  the  Piedmont  Hotel  on  the  following  even- 
ing. Dodge  went,  dined,  was  handed  five  hundred 
dollars,  and  agreed  to  go  up  to  New  York  with 
Bracken  to  see  Mr.  Hummel. 

The  next  Monday  morning  he  visited  the  law- 
yer's den,  where  Hummel  told  him  that  he  had 
sent  Bracken  down  to  find  him  and  bring  him 
back.  Just  then  a  clerk  brought  in  word  that  the 
firm  had  won  a  case,  and  the  little  lawyer  slapped 
his  new  friend  on  the  leg  and  exclaimed,  "  Dodge, 
you  are  a  mascot!"  The  words  must  have  after- 
ward echoed  mockingly  in  his  memory. 

Hummel  asked  Dodge  if  he  had  ever  been  served 
with  a  summons  in  the  divorce  proceedings  insti- 
tuted by  Mrs.  Dodge.  Dodge  said  that  he  had, 
at  the  Everett  House,  in  New  York,  in  March, 

323 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

and  that  he  had  retained  by  letter  a  lawyer  named 
Ruger  to  represent  him. 

Hummel  winked  at  Dodge  and  called  in  a  sten- 
ographer, to  whom  he  dictated  a  long  affidavit 
which  was  absolutely  false  in  many  of  its  most 
important  allegations  for  it  contained  statements 
to  the  effect  that  Mrs.  Dodge  had  unexpectedly 
visited  him  (Dodge)  in  Atlanta  in  1895,  and  that, 
so  far  as  the  divorce  proceedings  were  concerned, 
he  had  never  retained  Ruger  and  had  never  been 
served  with  any  summons  either  in  New  York  or 
anywhere  else,  although  he  had  deliberately  fur- 
nished evidence  to  assist  Mrs.  Dodge  in  quietly 
getting  a  divorce. 

This  affidavit  Dodge  swore  to  in  Hummers 
office  and  at  Hummers  direction  on  September 
8,  1903,  before  a  notary,  Joseph  F.  Moss,  a  present 
police  magistrate,  then  a  member  of  the  firm  of 
Howe  &  Hummel. 

Two  days  later  Hummel  wrote  to  Charles  W. 
Morse,  stating  that  Dodge  had  made  this  affidavit. 
"  It  is  my  duty,"  he  continued,  "  to  advise  you  that 
this  decree  is  collusive  and  irregular,  and  it  may 
be  doubted  whether  your  subsequent  marriage  is 
a  lawful  one,  and  whether  Mr.  Dodge  could  not 
set  aside  that  decree  and  claim  that  your  subse- 
quent marriage  to  his  wife  was  an  alienation  of  her 
affections  and  that  her  conduct  in  becoming  your 

324 


The  Downfall  of  a  Criminal  Lawyer 

wife  entitles  him  to  a  decree  against  her.  I  have 
taken  the  liberty  of  thoroughly  informing  you  re- 
garding this  matter,  so  that  if  you  desire  you  may 
confer  with  your  counsel  before  any  legal  steps  are 
taken." 

This  letter  was  subsequently  characterized  by 
the  Appellate  Division,  in  its  opinion,  sustaining 
Hummel's  conviction,  as  follows: 

"  If  Hummel  was  in  good  faith  carrying  out  the 
instructions  he  had  received  from  James  T. 
Morse,  the  reason  for  his  writing  to  Charles  W. 
Morse,  to  call  his  attention  to  what  he  claimed  to 
be  an  irregularity  in  the  decree  of  divorce,  is  not 
apparent.  The  defendant  had  obtained  fifteen 
thousand  dollars  from  James  T.  Morse  to  upset 
the  decree.  Mr.  Charles  W.  Morse,  who  had  mar- 
ried Mrs.  Dodge,  was  a  gentleman  of  wealth  and 
position  and  naturally  would  most  seriously  object 
to  any  scandal  of  this  kind  concerning  his  wife 
being  made  public,  and  under  these  circumstances, 
what  the  defendant  had  in  view  can  be  readily 
surmised/' 

According  to  Morse,  the  effect  of  this  letter  was 
to  lead  him  to  go  at  once  to  Hummers  office  and 
tell  him  that  the  matter  was  not  one  for  compro- 
mise, and  that  if  his  wife's  decree  from  Dodge  was 
not  legal,  steps  would  be  taken  to  make  it  so. 

Hummel  replied  in  the  same  tone  that  his  client, 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Mr.  Dodge,  wanted  the  decree  set  aside,  and  that 
he  was  not  willing  to  compromise. 

Morse  now  agreed  to  meet  Sweetzer  and  Hum- 
mel at  the  latter's  house  and  talk  the  matter  over. 
At  this  interview  Sweetzer  was  insistent  that  he 
had  properly  served  Dodge  in  person  with  the 
summons  at  the  Everett  House,  and  that  the  de- 
cree was  regular  in  every  way.  Hummel,  on  the 
other  hand,  alleged  that  it  was  collusive  and  cor- 
rupt, and  that  Dodge  felt  himself  outraged.  Noth- 
ing was  said  about  "Uncle  Jim."  The  meeting 
accomplished  nothing,  and  on  October  aoth,  1903, 
Hummel  procured  an  order  from  the  Supreme 
Court  requiring  Clemence  Dodge  (Mrs.  Morse) 
to  show  cause  why  her  divorce  from  Charles  F. 
Dodge  should  not  be  set  aside. 

But  a  slight  inadvertence  on  Hummers  part  in 
procuring  the  original  affidavit  from  Dodge  now 
necessitated  the  preparation  of  a  new  one,  and  for 
this  reason.  The  original  affidavit,  dictated  by 
Hummel,  contained  the  statement  that  Dodge  had 
received  a  copy  of  the  decree  through  the  mails  at 
the  Long  Beach  Hotel  in  the  summer  of  1898. 
This  was  a  damaging  admission,  for  a  Court  might 
well  have  held  that  if  Dodge  had  notice  of  the 
issuance  of  the  decree  and  took  no  steps  for  five 
years  to  do  anything  to  set  it  aside,  while  other 
parties,  relying  on  its  validity,  had  undertaken  new 

326 


The  Downfall  of  a  Criminal  Lawyer 

marital  relations,  that  constituted  such  laches  upon 
his  part  that  the  decree  should  be  permitted  to 
stand. 

Accordingly,  Hummel  sent  Bracken  to  Atlanta 
a  second  time  and  agreed  to  give  Dodge  five  thou- 
sand dollars  for  a  new  affidavit.  As  a  result  the 
hotel  man  paid  another  visit  to  the  lawyer's  office 
and  cheerfully  signed  a  new  deposition  drawn  by 
Steinhardt,  Hummers  partner,  which  contained 
no  reference  to  his  ever  having  any  knowledge  of 
the  procurement  of  the  decree  against  him  by  Mrs. 
Dodge. 

Dodge  testified  at  Hummers  trial  that  he  told 
Steinhardt  that  he  had  written  several  letters  to 
Ruger,  authorizing  the  latter  to  represent  him  in 
the  proceedings,  and  that  he  inquired  what  he 
should  say  about  them.  Steinhardt  had  replied, 
"  Ruger  is  dead,  you  will  hear  nothing  from  him." 

The  new  affidavit  emphatically  stated : 

"I  never  directly  or  indirectly  retained  Mr. 
Ruger  as  my  lawyer  in  this  action,  nor  did  I  ever 
authorize  him  to  appear.  I  was  never  served  with 
a  summons  or  complaint  in  the  divorce  action  and 
knew  nothing  about  what  was  going  on  in  refer- 
ence to  it,  and  the  affidavit  of  proof  of  service,  that 
I  was,  on  the  3ist  day  of  March,  served  with  a 
summons  in  this  action  by  William  A.  Sweetzer,  is 
absolutely  false.  I  do  not  know  said  William  A. 

327 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Sweetzer.  I  have  never  met  or  seen  him.  I  never 
knew  of  the  pendency  of  the  action,  nor  that  this 
suit  was  to  be  brought  to  trial,  nor  have  I  at  any 
time  ever  communicated  with  said  Mortimer  A. 
Ruger,  nor  have  I  ever  written  him,  or  he  me." 

Upon  the  strength  of  this  affidavit  the  Supreme 
Court  issued  an  order  appointing  a  referee  to  take 
proof  and  report  why  the  divorce  should  not  be  set 
aside.  Of  course  Dodge  was  the  most  important 
witness,  and  Hummel  sent  Bracken,  the  reliable, 
down  to  Atlanta  to  get  him  again. 

Hummel  now  proceeded  to  lay  one  of  the  clev- 
erest traps  to  discredit  a  witness  ever  devised  by 
human  ingenuity.  Upon  Sweetzer' s  ability  to  con- 
tradict Dodge's  assertion  that  he  had  never  been 
served  with  a  summons  in  the  original  action  de- 
pended the  sustaining  of  the  Morse  marriage. 
Hummel  knew  that  Sweetzer  had  seen  Dodge  but 
once,  and  then  for  a  single  moment  only,  six  years 
before.  He  therefore  conceived  the  idea  of  sub- 
stituting a  "dummy"  for  Dodge,  before  the  ref- 
eree, in  the  hope  that  Sweetzer  would  identify  him 
as  the  person  he  had  served  with  the  summons; 
and  he  accordingly  took  along  with  him  to  the 
hearing  a  man  by  the  name  of  Herpich,  who  re- 
sembled Dodge  but  slightly.  Precisely  as  Hum- 
mel had  planned,  Sweetzer  walked  into  the  trap 
and  identified  Herpich  as  Dodge,  and  this  error 

3*8 


The  Downfall  of  a  Criminal  Lawyer 

went  a  long  way  toward  leading  the  referee  to  be- 
lieve Dodge  and  discredit  Sweetzer. 

At  the  hearing,  Sweetzer  swore  positively  that 
he  had  personally  served  the  summons  upon  Dodge 
and  Dodge  equally  positively  denied  it,  alleging,  as 
he  had  previously  sworn  in  his  affidavit,  that  he 
did  not  know  Sweetzer,  had  never  had  any  cor- 
respondence with  Ruger,  and  was  a  conductor  on 
a  dining-car  which  did  not  run  to  New  York  at  the 
time  the  summons  was  said  to  have  been  served 
upon  him  by  Sweetzer.  His  skilful  lying  and 
Sweetzer' s  blundering  identification  of  Herpich 
convinced  the  referee  that  Dodge,  in  fact,  never 
had  been  served,  and  he  so  reported  to  the  Court. 

The  Dodge-Dodge  divorce  was  accordingly 
annulled  by  the  Supreme  Court  on  December  3rd, 
1903,  on  the  ground  that  the  Court  had  never  se- 
cured jurisdiction  over  the  defendant,  Dodge;  and 
on  December  22d  an  interlocutory  judgment  (to 
become  final  at  the  expiration  of  three  months)  was 
entered,  dissolving  the  Morse-Dodge  marriage, 
but  declaring  that  the  marriage  between  Charles 
W.  Morse  and  Clemence  Dodge,  while  null  and 
void  by  virtue  of  subsequent  action  of  the  Court, 
had  been  innocent  and  entered  into  in  good  faith. 

Hummel  had  won;  "Uncle  Jim"  had  accom- 
plished the  object  which  he  professed  was  so  dear 
to  his  heart;  Mrs.  Morse  was  no  longer  Mrs. 

329 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Morse,  but  had  become  Mrs.  Dodge  again;  and 
Dodge  himself  was  six  or  seven  thousand  dollars 
to  the  good. 

Then  a  curious  and  unexpected  thing  happened. 
Lawyer  Sweetzer,  feeling  that  he  had  made  rather 
a  fool  of  himself,  decided  to  do  a  little  investigat- 
ing on  his  own  account.  Accordingly  he  visited 
the  offices  formerly  occupied  by  Mortimer  A.  Ru- 
ger  on  the  ninth  floor  of  45  Broadway,  where  some 
of  Ruger' s  effects  still  remained.  Here  he  discov- 
ered, among  a  mass  of  papers,  two  letters  from 
Dodge  to  Ruger,  admitting  that  he  had  been  served 
with  a  summons  and  authorizing  Ruger  to  appear 
for  him.  The  first  read  as  follows : 

ATLANTA,  GA.,  May  2,  1897. 
MORTIMER  RUGER,  ESQ., 

45  Broadway,  N.  Y. 

Dear  Sir:  My  wife,  Mrs.  Clemence  Dodge,  of  208  W. 
44th  Street,  New  York,  commenced  an  action  for  abso- 
lute divorce  against  me  by  service  of  a  summons  which 
I  hereby  enclose  to  you.  The  summons  was  served  upon 
me  at  the  Everett  House  in  New  York  city,  by  Mr.  Wil- 
liam A.  Sweetzer,  the  plaintiff's  attorney.  I  have  no 
personal  acquaintance  among  lawyers  in  New  York  city, 
and  your  name  has  been  referred  to  me.  I  believe  my 
time  to  answer  has  expired.  However,  I  would  like  to 
have  you  appear  for  me  in  the  action.  The  summons 
was  served  alone  and  written  across  the  face  of  it  was 
"Action  for  absolute  divorce,"  and  so  far  as  I  can  see  I 
do  not  believe  I  have  any  defense.  Would  you  be  kind 
enough  to  appear  for  me  in  the  matter  as  my  attorney,  if 

330 


The  Downfall  of  a  Criminal  Lawyer 

Mr.  Sweetzer  will  accept  it  without  making  any  move  in 
the  court  for  permission  to  do  so  ?  I  believe  the  petition 
will  contain  a  statement  complaining  of  acts  of  mine  in 
Atlanta,  and  if  so  I  cannot  defend. 

Very  truly  yours, 

CHARLES  F.  DODGE. 

The  other  letter  was  similar  in  character.  '  Thus, 
as  their  genuineness  was  beyond  question,  they 
demonstrated  and  proved  that  Dodge  had  delib- 
erately perjured  himself  before  the  referee,  at  some 
one's  suggestion  and  in  some  one's  interest.  Sweet- 
zer said  that  these  letters  had  been  the  result  of  an 
arrangement  between  Ruger  and  himself,  since  he 
had  intimated  to  Dodge  the  advisability  of  retain- 
ing Ruger  as  attorney,  for  Sweetzer  and  Ruger  at 
that  time  had  occupied  adjacent  offices  and  had 
been  in  the  Corporation  Counsel's  office  together. 
The  divorce,  he  explained,  was  to  be  procured 
without  expense  to  Dodge,  and  Ruger  was  to  re- 
ceive his  fee  from  Mrs.  Dodge.  It  is  probable  that 
the  form  of  the  letter  was  in  substance  suggested  to 
the  hotel  man  by  Sweetzer  himself. 

Four  days  after  the  discovery  of  the  letters  a 
conference  was  held  at  ex- Judge  Fursman's  office, 
at  32  Nassau  Street,  at  which  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Morse 
(or  Mrs.  Dodge,  whichever  it  may  then  have  been), 
Sweetzer,  and  Fursman,  as  Mrs.  Morse's  attorney, 
were  present.  The  two  letters  were  there  shown  to 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Mrs.  Morse,  but  she  professed  an  inability  to  de- 
termine whether  they  were  genuine  or  not.  Furs- 
man  assured  her  that  he  believed  the  letters  to  be 
authentic,  and  advised  her  to  permit  him  to  pro- 
ceed by  means  of  them  to  have  both  the  original 
divorce  from  Dodge  and  her  marriage  to  Morse 
reinstated  as  legal.  But,  according  to  Fursman, 
she  would  have  none  of  it,  and  insisted  that  there 
was  something  wrong  about  the  original  divorce. 
She  thought  they  had  better  begin  all  over  again 
and  institute  a  new  action  for  divorce  against  her 
former  husband. 

However,  Morse  himself  decided  to  take  action, 
and  on  April  5th,  by  order  of  the  Supreme  Court, 
the  original  divorce  in  Dodge  vs.  Dodge  was  "re- 
stored and  reinstated  in  full  force." 

Hummel  had  appeared  in  opposition  before  the 
referee  to  whom  the  matter  had  been  sent,  but  had 
offered  no  great  resistance,  for  Dodge's  perjury 
was  too  flagrant  to  be  debatable.  Mrs.  Dodge  was 
now  Mrs.  Morse  again,  and  "Uncle  Jim"  had 
spent  his  money  all  for  nothing.  No,  not  for  noth- 
ing, for  it  was  a  small  sum  to  pay  for  the  privilege 
of  putting  Hummel  behind  prison  bars.  Perhaps 
it  was  unfair  to  assess  the  cost  entirely  upon 
"Uncle  Jim,"  but  then,  probably,  it  served  him 
right. 

Yet,  long  before  the  action  of  the  Supreme  Court 
332 


The  Downfall  of  a  Criminal  Lawyer 

in  restoring  the  marriage,  District  Attorney  Je- 
rome had  begun  his  own  method  of  untangling  the 
matrimonial  skein  of  Charles  W.  Morse.  As  soon 
as  the  facts  were  laid  before  him  he  placed  the 
matter  in  the  hands  of  the  grand  jury,  which 
promptly  returned  an  indictment  against  Dodge 
for  the  crime  of  perjury.  Hummel  began  to  be 
alarmed.  If  Dodge  should  be  put  through  the 
"third  degree"  he  might  squeal;  but  this  seemed 
impossible.  No  jury  would  believe  him,  anyway, 
and  there  was  no  earthly  way,  that  Hummel  could 
see,  to  corroborate  him.  Still  the  little  lawyer  was 
decidedly  uneasy. 

Dodge,  meanwhile,  had  been  arrested  in  Atlanta 
and  brought  to  New  York.  On  February  ist,  1904, 
Hummel  called  up  "Captain  Jim"  on  the  long- 
distance telephone,  told  him  of  Dodge's  plight, 
and  stated  that  his  bail  had  been  fixed  at  ten  thou- 
sand dollars.  The  captain  ought  to  come  over, 
he  said,  and  attend  to  it. 

Now  "  Captain  Jim  "  was  in  no  way  responsible 
for  what  either  Hummel  or  Dodge  had  done,  yet 
for  some  unknown  reason  he  took  the  next  train 
for  New  York  and  brought  the  ten  thousand  dol- 
lars in  cash  to  Hummers  office.  Why  ?  Hadn't  he 
put  up  enough  already  ?  What  interest  had  he  in 
this  miserable  criminal  from  Atlanta  ?  "  Captain 
Jim"  went  back  to  Boston,  and  three  weeks  later 

333 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

received  another  call  by  long-distance.  This  time 
Hummel  wanted  only  three  thousand  dollars. 
Down  into  his  trousers  pocket  went  "Uncle  Jim." 
Surely  Hummel  had  a  curious  influence  over  this 
horny-handed  old  sailor.  But  the  Captain  did  not 
like  to  travel  so  far  as  New  York — he  was  getting 
to  be  an  old  man;  so  thereafter,  whenever  money 
was  needed,  a  person  named  Cohen  met  him  in 
Stamford  for  that  purpose.  It  was  not  so  far.  The 
extra  hour  into  New  York  evidently  would  have 
had  grave  discomforts  for  poor  "Uncle  Jim."  Be- 
tween February  ist  and  August,  1904,  Captain 
Morse  paid  Hummel  forty-five  thousand  dollars  in 
amounts  ranging  from  fifteen  hundred  to  ten 
thousand,  which,  added  to  Hummel's  original  re- 
tainer of  fifteen  thousand  dollars,  made  the  Cap- 
tain's alleged  little  game  of  interference  cost  him 
exactly  sixty  thousand  dollars.  It  is  needless  to 
say  that  he  never  received  any  of  it  back,  and,  so 
far  as  can  be  learned,  he  had  no  expectation  or 
desire  that  it  should  be  returned.  He  said  that  he 
thought  it  was  all  most  innocent  and  proper.  Of 
course  he  did.  Did  he  not  swear  so  upon  the 
sacred  book  ? 

"I  never  raised  any  question  about  their  [the 
payments]  propriety  or  impropriety.  In  the 
treatment  that  I  received  at  the  hands  of  Mr.  Hum- 
mel I  haven't  any  fault  to  find.  The  fact  was  never 

334 


The  Downfall  of  a  Criminal  Lawyer 

brought  home  to  me  in  any  way  that  any  of  the 
money  I  paid  Mr.  Hummel  was  to  be  used  for  the 
purchase  of  perjured  evidence.  I  never  instructed 
Mr.  Hummel  to  make  use  of  that  kind  of  testi- 
mony. ...  I  believed  that  Dodge  had  told  the 
truth.  Hummel  told  me  so.  I  was  willing  and 
contented  to  stand  by  it.  I  was  willing  to  stand 
by  him  and  put  up  the  money  for  that  purpose." 

Speaking  of  Hummel,  the  Appellate  Division  in 
sustaining  the  lawyer's  conviction  said  (per  Ingra- 
ham,  J.): 

"  I  can  conceive  of  no  explanation  of  this  that  is 
consistent  with  the  defendant's  innocence.  If 
Hummel  obtained  Dodge's  presence  here  and  used 
him  for  the  purpose  of  upsetting  this  divorce  by 
inducing  him  to  commit  perjury,  it  is  quite  appar- 
ent why  Hummel  should  consider  it  essential  to 
keep  Dodge  from  being  brought  here  for  trial,  for 
Hummel  would  then  be  in  danger  of  just  what  has 
happened — Dodge  turning  State's  evidence — in 
which  case  Hummel  would  be  in  trouble.  But  I 
can  conceive  of  no  other  reason  which  would  in- 
duce Hummel  and  Morse  to  pay  forty  thousand 
dollars  to  protect  Dodge  from  prosecution  for  the 
crime  of  which  he  was  clearly  guilty." 

Dodge  at  once  ran  away  and  disappeared,  and 
all  the  forces  of  evil  which  Hummel  controlled 
united  in  trying  to  defeat  the  District  Attorney  in 

335 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

his  attempt  to  find  the  perjurer  and  bring  him 
back.  How  his  return  was  accomplished  is  a 
story  in  itself,  a  story  beside  which  the  present  nar- 
rative must  seem  pale  indeed.  But  the  long  arm 
of  the  law  snatched  Dodge  back  from  the  banks 
of  the  Rio  Grande,  whence  he  had  hoped  to  slip 
into  Mexico,  and  once  safely  lodged  in  the  Tombs 
he  lost  his  nerve  and  confessed  his  part  of  the 
crime. 

An  indictment  was  found  by  the  grand  jury  on 
June  ayth,  1905,  accusing  Charles  F.  Dodge,  Abra- 
ham H.  Hummel,  and  Benjamin  Steinhardt,  of 
conspiracy  to  obstruct  the  course  of  justice  and  the 
due  administration  of  the  law,  and  the  chief  wit- 
ness whose  name  appeared  upon  the  back  of  the 
indictment  was  Charles  F.  Dodge  himself. 

People  wagered  that  Hummel  would  never  let 
himself  live  to  be  convicted,  and  that  no  district 
attorney,  in  view  of  the  subterranean  influences 
controlled  by  Hummel,  would  ever  succeed  in 
forcing  him  to  trial.  But  Hummel  was  beaten  on 
every  technicality,  and  with  a  fortitude  and  phil- 
osophy that  were  worthy  of  a  better  cause,  faced 
his  jury  on  December  I3th,  1905.  He  had  chosen 
De  Lancey  Nicoll  and  John  B.  Stanchfield  to  rep- 
resent him,  while  William  H.  Rand,  Jr.,  appeared 
for  the  People. 

To  describe  the  trial  would  be  but  to  repeat  the 

336 


The  Downfall  of  a  Criminal  Lawyer 

narrative  contained  in  the  foregoing  pages.  The 
People  concluded  their  case  in  about  five  court 
days,  the  first  witnesses  called  being  Messrs. 
Kaffenburgh  and  Cohen,  members  of  Hummel's 
firm  interested  in  the  escape  of  Dodge,  who  de- 
clined to  answer  any  questions  put  to  them  by  the 
prosecution  on  the  ground  that  their  answers 
would  tend  to  degrade  and  incriminate  them.  Dodge 
testified  at  length  and  was  followed  by  Charles  W. 
Morse  and  faithful  "Uncle  Jim/'  The  defence 
rested  upon  the  People's  case.  The  evidence, 

I  documentary  in  character  for  the  most  part,  could 
not  be  controverted,  and  had  Hummel  taken  the 
stand  to  deny  his  share  in  the  conspiracy  the  cur- 
tain which  now  hangs  before  the  cavern  of  his  past 
would  have  been  rudely  torn  aside  and  the  rotting 
bones  of  his  victims  exposed  to  public  view.  When 
both  sides  went  to  the  jury  Dodge  stood  uncontra- 
dicted. 

"Poor  little  Hummel,"  as  Nicoll  called  him  in 
his  address,  took  his  conviction  imperturbably. 
Throughout  life  he  had  followed  the  creed  which 
permits  any  kind  of  trickery  or  deceit  when  prac- 
tised upon  a  victim;  which  views  perjury,  bribery, 
and  blackmail  with  complacency;  but  which  holds 
that  a  word  pledged  to  a  comrade  should  be  better 
than  a  bond,  and  that  if  caught  a  man  should  take 
his  medicine  without  shrinking,  and  which  regards 

337 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

the  "squealer"  as  the  most  despicable  of  all  out- 
casts. Hummel  had  lived  his  miserable  little  life 
and  had  played  fast  and  loose  with  justice,  but 
he  had  never  broken  the  word  he  had  given  a 
brother  lawyer  or  the  faith  he  had  pledged  to  a 
client,  and  now  that  the  game  was  going  against 
him  he  met  fate  with  a  smiling  face  and  accepted 
ruin  like  the  gambler  that  he  was. 


338 


A  FLIGHT  INTO  TEXAS 


XII 

A  Flight  Into  Texas 

THE  flight  and  extradition  of  Charles  F. 
Dodge  unquestionably  involved  one  of  the 
most  extraordinary  battles  with  justice  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  criminal  law.  The  funds  at  the  dis- 
posal of  those  who  were  interested  in  procuring 
the  prisoner's  escape  were  unlimited  in  extent  and 
the  arch  conspirator  for  whose  safety  Dodge  was 
spirited  away  was  so  influential  in  political  and 
criminal  circles  that  he  was  all  but  successful  in 
defying  the  prosecutor  of  New  York  County,  even 
supported  as  the  latter  was  by  the  military  and 
judicial  arm  of  the  United  States  Government. 
For,  at  the  time  that  Dodge  made  his  escape,  a 
whisper  from  Hummel  was  enough  to  make  the 
dry  bones  of  many  a  powerful  and  ostensibly  re- 
spectable official  rattle  and  the  tongue  cleave  to 
the  roof  of  his  mouth  in  terror. 

Who  could  accomplish  that  in  which  the  law 
was  powerless  ? — Hummel.  Who  could  drive  to 
the  uttermost  ends  of  the  earth  persons  against 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

whom  not  a  shadow  of  suspicion  had  previously 
rested  ? — Hummel.  Who  dictated  to  the  chiefs  of 
police  of  foreign  cities  what  they  should  or  should 
not  do  in  certain  cases;  and  who  could,  at  the 
beckoning  of  his  little  finger,  summon  to  his  dun- 
geon-like offices  in  the  New  York  Life  Building, 
whither  his  firm  had  removed  from  Centre  Street, 
the  most  prominent  of  lawyers,  the  most  eminent 
of  citizens  ? — Surely  none  but  Hummel.  And  now 
Hummel  was  fighting  for  his  own  life.  The  only 
man  that  stood  between  him  and  the  iron  bars  of 
Blackwell's  Island  was  Charles  F.  Dodge — the 
man  whom  he  had  patted  on  the  knee  in  his  office 
and  called  a  "Mascot,"  when  quite  in  the  nature 
of  business  he  needed  a  little  perjury  to  assist  a 
wealthy  client. 

Hummel  in  terror  called  into  play  every  resource 
upon  which,  during  forty  years  of  practice,  his  tiny 
tentacles  had  fastened.  Who  shall  say  that  while 
he  made  a  show  of  enjoying  himself  nightly  with 
his  accustomed  light-heartedness  in  the  Tender- 
loin, he  did  not  feel  confident  that  in  the  end  this 
peril  would  disappear  like  the  others  which  had 
from  time  to  time  threatened  him  during  his  crimi- 
nal career  ?  But  Hummel  was  fully  aware  of  the 
tenacity  of  the  man  who  had  resolved  to  rid  New 
York  of  his  malign  influence.  His  Nemesis  was 
following  him.  In  his  dreams,  if  he  ever  dreamed, 

342 


A  Flight  Into  Texas 

it  probably  took  the  shape  of  the  square  shoul- 
dered District  Attorney  in  the  shadow  of  whose 
office  building  the  little  shyster  practised  his  pro- 
fession. Had  he  been  told  that  this  Nemesis  was 
in  reality  a  jovial  little  man  with  a  round,  ruddy  face 
and  twinkling  blue  eyes  he  would  have  laughed  as 
heartily  as  it  was  in  his  power  to  laugh.  Yet  such 
was  the  fact.  A  little  man  who  looked  less  like  a 
detective  than  a  commercial  traveller  selling  St. 
Peter's  Oil  or  some  othdr  cheerful  concoction, 
with  manners  as  gentle  and  a  voice  as  soft  as  a 
spring  zephyr,  who  always  took  off  his  hat  when 
he  came  into  a  business  office,  seemingly  bashful 
to  the  point  of  self-effacement,  was  the  one  who 
snatched  Charles  F.  Dodge  from  the  borders  of 
Mexico  and  held  him  in  an  iron  grip  when  every 
influence  upon  which  Hummel  could  call  for  aid, 
from  crooked  police  officials,  corrupt  judges  and  a 
gang  of  cutthroats  Under  the  guise  of  a  sheriff's 
posse,  were  fighting  for  his  release. 

Jesse  Blocher  is  not  employed  in  New  York 
County,  and  for  business  reasons  he  does  not  wish 
his  present  address  known.  When  he  comes  to 
New  York  he  occasionally  drops  into  the  writer's 
office  for  a  cigar  and  a  friendly  chat  about  old 
times.  And  as  he  sits  there  and  talks  so  modestly 
and  with  such  quiet  humor  about  his  advent- 
ures with  the  Texas  Rangers  among  the  cactus- 

343 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

studded  plains  of  the  Lone  Star  State,  it  is  hard 
even  for  one  who  knows  the  truth,  to  realize  that 
this  man  is  one  of  the  greatest  of  detectives,  or 
rather  one  of  the  most  capable,  resourceful,  adroit 
and  quick-witted  knights  of  adventure  who  ever 
set  forth  upon  a  seemingly  impossible  errand. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  state  just  how  the  District 
Attorney  discovered  the  existence  of  "Jesse,"  as 
we  knew  him.  It  is  enough  to  say  that  on  Satur- 
day morning,  July  23,  1904,  he  was  furnished 
with  the  proper  credentials  and  given  instructions 
to  proceed  at  once  to  New  Orleans,  Louisiana, 
and  "locate,"  if  it  were  humanly  possible  to  do  so, 
Charles  F.  Dodge,  under  indictment  for  perjury,  and 
potentially  the  chief  witness  against  Abraham  H. 
Hummel,  on  a  charge  of  conspiracy.  He  was  told 
briefly  and  to  the  point  that,  in  spite  of  the  official 
reports  from  the  police  head-quarters  of  both  New 
York  City  and  New  Orleans  to  the  contrary,  there 
was  reason  to  believe  that  Dodge  was  living,  al- 
though not  registered,  as  a  guest  at  the  St.  Charles 
Hotel  in  the  latter  city.  A  partial  and  inaccurate 
description  of  Dodge  was  given  him  and  he  was 
warned  to  use  extreme  caution  to  prevent  any  knowl- 
edge of  his  mission  from  being  made  known.  Once 
Dodge  had  been  discovered  he  was  to  keep  him 
under  surveillance  and  wire  New  York  immediately. 

Accordingly,  Jesse  left  the  city  upon  the  same 
344 


A  Flight  Into  Texas 

day  at  4.45  p.  M.  and  arrived  two  days  later,  at 
9.15  on  Monday  morning,  at  New  Orleans,  where 
he  went  directly  to  the  St.  Charles  Hotel,  regis- 
tered, and  was  assigned  to  room  Number  547  on 
the  fifth  floor.  Somewhere  in  the  hotel  Dodge  was 
secreted.  The  question  was  how  to  find  him. 
For  an  hour  Jesse  sat  in  the  hotel  foyer  and  medi- 
tatively watched  the  visitors  come  and  go,  but  saw 
no  sign  of  his  quarry.  Then  he  arose,  put  on  his 
hat  and  hunted  out  a  stationery  store  where  for 
two  cents  he  bought  a  bright-red  envelope.  He 
then  visited  a  ticket-scalper's  office,  secured  the 
owner's  business  card  and  wrote  a  note  on  its 
back  to  Dodge  offering  him  cheap  transportation 
to  any  point  that  he  might  desire.  Armed  with 
this  he  returned  to  the  hotel,  walked  to  the  desk, 
glanced  casually  over  a  number  of  telegrams  ex- 
posed in  a  rack  and,  when  the  clerk  turned  his 
back,  placed  the  note,  addressed  to  Charles  F. 
Dodge,  unobserved,  upon  the  counter.  The  office 
was  a  busy  one,  guests  were  constantly  depositing 
their  keys  and  receiving  their  mail,  and,  even  as 
Jesse  stood  there  watching  developments,  the 
clerk  turned  round,  found  the  note  and  promptly 
placed  it  in  box  Number  420.  The  very  simple 
scheme  had  worked,  and  quite  unconsciously  the 
clerk  had  indicated  the  number  of  the  room  occu- 
pied by  Dodge. 

345 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Jesse  lost  no  time  in  ascending  to  the  fourth 
floor,  viewed  room  Number  420,  returned  to  the 
desk,  told  the  clerk  that  he  was  dissatisfied  with 
the  room  assigned  him,  and  requested  that  he  be 
given  either  room  Number  421,  423,  or  425,  one 
of  which  he  stated  that  he  had  occupied  on  a  pre- 
vious visit.  After  some  discussion  the  clerk 
allotted  him  room  Number  423,  which  was  almost 
directly  opposite  that  occupied  by  Dodge,  and  the 
detective  at  once  took  up  his  task  of  watching  for 
the  fugitive  to  appear. 

Within  the  hour  the  door  opened  and  Dodge 
and  a  companion,  who  subsequently  proved  to  be 
E.  M.  Bracken,  alias  "Bradley,"  an  agent  em- 
ployed by  Howe  and  Hummel,  left  the  room,  went 
to  the  elevator  and  descended  to  the  dining-room 
upon  the  second  floor.  Jesse  watched  until  they 
were  safely  ensconced  at  breakfast  and  then  re- 
turned to  the  fourth  floor  where  he  tipped  the 
chambermaid,  told  her  that  he  had  left  his  key 
at  the  office  and  induced  her  to  unlock  the  door 
of  room  Number  420,  which  she  did  under  the 
supposition  that  Jesse  was  the  person  who  had 
left  the  chamber  in  Dodge's  company.  The  con- 
tents of  the  room  convinced  Jesse  that  he  had 
found  Dodge,  for  he  discovered  there  two  grips 
bearing  Dodge's  name  as  well  as  several  letters 
on  the  table  addressed  to  him.  The  detective 

346 


A  Flight  Into  Texas 

returned  to  the  hall  and  had  a  little  talk  with  the 
maid. 

"The  old  gentleman  with  you  has  been  quite 
sick,"  she  said.  "How  is  he  to-day  ?" 

"He  is  some  better,"  answered  Jesse. 

"Yes,  he  does  look  better  to-day,"  she  added, 
"  but  he  sho'ly  was  powerful  sick  yesterday.  Why, 
he  hasn't  been  out  pf  his  room  befo'  fo'  five  or 
six  days." 

This  statement  was  corroborated  by  Dodge's 
physical  appearance,  for  he  looked  haggard  and 
worn. 

Jesse  was  now  confident  that  he  had  found 
Dodge,  in  spite  of  the  reports  of  the  New  Orleans 
police  to  the  contrary,  and  he  was  also  reasonably 
sure  that  the  fugitive  was  too  sick  to  leave  the 
hotel  immediately.  He  therefore  telegraphed  his 
superiors  that  he  had  discovered  Dodge  and  that 
the  latter  was  ill  at  the  St.  Charles  Hotel. 

At  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  Jesse  received 
a  wire  from  New  York  as  follows : 

New  Orleans  police  department  claims  party  not  there. 
Left  for  Mexico  three  weeks  ago.  Ascertain  correct  des- 
tination and  wire  at  once. 

Jesse  at  once  replied : 

No  question  as  to  identity  and  presence  here  at  this 
time. 

347 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

He  now  took  up  the  task  of  keeping  his  quarry 
under  absolute  surveillance  day  and  night,  which 
duty  from  that  moment  he  continued  for  a  period 
of  nearly  ten  months. 

During  the  remainder  of  the  afternoon  and 
throughout  the  night  Dodge  and  Bracken  re- 
mained in  room  Number  420,  and  during  the 
evening  were  visited  by  several  strangers,  includ- 
ing a  plain-clothes  officer  from  the  New  Orleans 
Police  Head-quarters.  Little  Hummel,  dining  in 
Long  Acre  Square  in  the  glare  of  Broadway,  was 
pressing  some  invisible  button  that  transmitted 
the  power  of  his  influence  even  to  the  police  gov- 
ernment of  a  city  two  thousand  miles  away. 

The  following  day,  January  26th,  at  about  8.40 
in  the  morning,  Dodge  and  Bracken  descended  to 
the  lobby.  Bracken  departed  from  the  hotel, 
leaving  Dodge  to  pay  the  bill  at  the  cashier's  win- 
dow, and  Jesse  heard  him  order  a  cab  for  the  11.30 
A.  M.  Sunset  Limited  on  the  Southern  Pacific 
Railroad  and  direct  that  his  baggage  be  removed 
from  his  room.  Jesse  did  the  same. 

In  the  meantime  Bracken  returned  and  promptly 
at  1 1  A.  M.  left  for  the  railroad  station  in  a  cab  with 
Dodge.  Jesse  followed  in  another.  As  the  two 
passed  through  the  gates  the  detective  caught  a 
glimpse  of  Dodge's  ticket  and  saw  that  it  had  been 
issued  by  the  Mexican  National  Railway.  Retiring 

348 


A  Flight  Into  Texas 

to  the  telegraph  office  in  the  station  he  wired  New 
York  as  follows : 


Bird  flying. — Sunset  Limited.  Destination  not  known. 
I  am  with  him. 

He  then  hastily  purchased  a  ticket  to  Houston, 
Texas,  and  boarded  the  train.  Dodge's  compan- 
ion had  bidden  him  good-by  as  the  engine  started, 
and  Jesse's  task  now  became  that  of  ferreting  out 
Dodge's  destination.  After  some  difficulty  he 
managed  to  get  a  glimpse  of  the  whole  of  the  fugi- 
tive's ticket  and  thus  discovered  that  he  was  on  his 
way  to  the  City  of  Mexico,  via  Eagle  Pass,  Texas, 
while  from  the  Pullman  conductor  he  learned  that 
Dodge  had  secured  sleeping-car  accommodation 
as  far  as  San  Antonio,  Texas,  only. 

So  far  all  was  well.  He  knew  Dodge  but 
Dodge  did  not  know  him,  and  later  on  in  the 
afternoon  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  a  long  talk 
with  his  quarry  in  the  observation  car  where 
they  amiably  discussed  together  current  events 
and  argued  politics  with  the  same  vehemence  as 
if  they  had  been  commercial  travellers  thrown 
fortuitously  into  each  other's  company.  Dodge, 
however,  cleverly  evaded  any  reference  to  his 
destination. 

When  the  train  reached  Morgan  City,  Louis- 
349 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

iana,  at  3  p.  M.,  which  was  the  first  stop,  Jesse 
wired  New  York  as  follows : 

On  Sunset  Limited  with  friend.  He  has  transporta- 
tion to  the  City  of  Mexico,  via  Eagle  Pass,  where  I  am 
now  journeying  with  him.  Answer  to  Beaumont,  Texas. 

Later  in  the  afternoon  he  sent  an  additional 
message  from  Lafayette,  Louisiana: 

Have  seen  transportation  of  friend  and  am  positive  of 
destination. 

Dodge  was  occupying  Section  3  of  the  sleeping 
car  "Capitola,"  and,  as  became  an  invalid,  re- 
tired early. 

At  Beaumont  Jesse  failed  to  receive  any  reply 
to  his  various  messages,  and  when  the  train  ar- 
rived at  Houston  no  word  came  from  New  York 
until  it  was  almost  the  time  of  departure.  Waiting 
until  practically  the  last  moment  Jesse  hurried 
through  the  gates  of  the  Union  Station  at  Houston 
and  bought  a  ticket  to  San  Antonio.  As  he  was 
leaving  the  ticket  window  Night  Chief  of  Police 
John  Howard  and  two  officers  came  hurrying  up 
inquiring  anxiously  for  "Mr.  Jesse."  The  rein- 
forcements had  arrived. 

Outside  on  the  track  "The  Sunset  Limited" 
was  just  getting  under  way.  The  first  frantic 

350 


A  Flight  Into  Texas 

puffs  were  being  vomited  from  the  funnel.  Inside 
Dodge  was  sleeping  peacefully  in  his  berth.  Jesse, 
accompanied  by  Chief  Howard,  hurried  up  to  the 
conductor  who  was  about  to  swing  on  to  the  steps 
of  the  sleeper,  and  ordered  him  to  hold  the  train 
till  the  fugitive  could  be  removed.  After  some  ar- 
gument the  conductor  grumblingly  complied  and 
Dodge  was  aroused  from  pleasant  dreams  of  the 
"Creole  Quarter"  to  the  cold  reality  of  being 
dragged  out  of  bed  by  a  policeman.  He  was  un- 
ceremoniously hustled  out  of  the  sleeping  car  into 
a  carriage  and  taken  to  Head-quarters  where  he 
admitted  his  identity  and  remarked: 

"  I  know  what  I  am  wanted  for,  but  I  will  never 
return  to  New  York." 

In  his  grip  was  found  the  sum  of  $1,563.15  as 
well  as  numerous  letters  from  the  law  firm  of 
Howe  and  Hummel  and  a  quantity  of  newspaper 
clippings  relative  to  his  case. 

Dodge  pleaded  with  Chief  Howard  not  to  lock 
him  up,  urging  that  he  was  a  sick  man  and  offer- 
ing a  goodly  sum  if  he  might  be  taken  to  a  hotel 
and  guarded  for  the  remainder  of  the  night.  But 
what  "went"  in  New  Orleans,  did  not  "go"  in 
Houston,  and  the  best  that  Dodge  could  get  for 
himself  was  a  cot  in  the  "Ladies  Detention  Room" 
on  the  second  floor  of  the  jail.  . 

Early  the  following  morning  Jesse  visited  Police 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Head-quarters  and  for  the  first  time  met  George 
Ellis,  Chief  of  Police  of  Houston,  for  whom  he 
will  always  have  a  feeling  of  deep  gratitude  for  his 
enthusiastic  cooperation  and  loyalty  in  the  many 
stirring  events  that  followed.  Dodge  now  received 
a  telegram  from  New  York,  which  was  submitted 
to  Jesse  before  reaching  the  prisoner,  to  the  effect 
that  Howe  and  Hummel  were  sending  on  an  attor- 
ney to  aid  the  fugitive  in  resisting  extradition,  and 
informing  him  that  they  had  employed  Messrs. 
Hunt  and  Meyers  as  attorneys  to  look  out  for  his 
welfare.  These  last  immediately  jumped  in 
medias  res  and  on  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day 
secured  a  writ  of  habeas  corpus  from  Norman  J. 
Kitrell,  District  Judge  of  Harris  County,  Texas, 
returnable  the  following  morning. 

The  next  day,  January  a8th,  Kitrell  released 
Dodge  from  custody. 

Jesse  had  anticipated  this  and  immediately 
swore  out  another  warrant  with  the  result  that  the 
prisoner  was  rearrested  before  he  left  the  court 
room. 

Meantime  the  Dodge  interests  retained  another 
firm  of  lawyers,  Messrs.  Andrews  and  Ball,  who, 
on  the  following  day,  secured  a  second  writ  of 
habeas  corpus  from  Judge  Ashe. 

The  result  of  the  first  engagement  thus  being 
a  draw,  counsel  on  both  sides  agreed  that  this 

352 


A  Flight  Into  Texas 

writ  should  not  be  returnable  for  six  days.  During 
this  period  District  Attorney  Jerome  employed 
Messrs.  Baker  Botts,  Parker  and  Garwood  to  rep- 
resent him  and  secured  from  Governor  Odell  at 
Albany  a  requisition  on  Governor  Lanham  of 
Texas  for  the  extradition  of  the  prisoner,  which  he 
entrusted  to  Detective  Sergeant  Herlihy  of  the 
New  York  Police.  Herlihy  reached  Houston  with 
the  papers  on  the  evening  of  January  3Oth,  and  on 
the  same  train  with  him  came  Abraham  Kaffen- 
burgh,  a  member  of  the  law  firm  of  Howe  and 
Hummel  and  a  nephew  of  the  latter.  Likewise 
also  came  Bracken,  still  styling  himself  "E.  M. 
Bradley/*  and  from  now  on  Bracken  was  the  in- 
separable companion,  guide,  philosopher  and 
friend  ( ?)  of  the  unfortunate  Dodge  whose  con- 
tinued existence  upon  this  earth  had  become  such 
a  menace  to  the  little  lawyer  in  New  York. 

Herlihy,  accompanied  by  Judge  Garwood,  pro- 
ceeded direct  to  Austin  where  they  found  Dodge 
already  represented  by  Messrs.  Andrews  and  Ball 
who,  at  the  hearing  before  Governor  Lanham, 
made  a  strong  effort  to  induce  that  executive  to 
refuse  to  honor  the  requisition  of  the  Governor  of 
New  York.  This  effort  failed  and  Governor  Lan- 
ham issued  his  warrant,  but  Herlihy  had  no 
sooner  returned  to  Houston  for  the  purpose  of  tak- 
ing possession  of  the  prisoner  than  he  was  served 

353 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

with  an  injunction  enjoining  him,  together  with 
Chief  of  Police  Ellis,  from  taking  Dodge  into 
custody,  pending  a  hearing  upon  a  new  habeas 
corpus  which  had  been  issued  by  Judge  Waller  T. 
Burns  of  the  United  States  District  Court  for  the 
Southern  District  of  Texas.  This  new  writ  was 
returnable  February  Qth. 

After  exhaustive  but  futile  argument  by  the 
counsel  for  Dodge,  Judge  Burns  remanded  the 
prisoner  to  Herlihy's  custody  to  be  returned  to  the 
State  of  New  York,  but  this  decision  had  no 
sooner  been  rendered  than  an  appeal  was  taken 
therefrom  by  Dodge's  lawyers,  and  the  prisoner 
released  upon  bail  fixed  at  twenty  thousand  dollars. 

During  this  period  Dodge  was  quartered  under 
guard  at  the  Rice  Hotel  in  Houston,  and  the  day 
following  the  argument  the  twenty-thousand-dol- 
lars bail  was  put  up  in  cash  and  Dodge  released 
from  custody. 

In  the  meantime,  however,  Jesse,  knowing  that 
no  sum,  however  large,  would  deter  Hummel  from 
spiriting  Dodge  out  of  the  country,  had  made  his 
arrangements  to  secure  a  new  extradition  warrant 
from  the  Governor  of  Texas,  so  that  if  the  prisoner 
did  succeed  in  getting  beyond  the  Southern  Dis- 
trict of  the  Federal  Court  of  Texas,  he  could  be 
seized  and  conveyed  to  New  York. 

Of  course  some  one  had  to  keep  watch  over 
354 


A  Flight  Into  Texas 

Dodge  while  Jesse  hurried  to  Austin  to  see  the 
Governor,  and  it  was  decided  to  leave  Sergeant 
Herlihy,  reenforced  by  a  number  of  local  detec- 
tives for  that  purpose.  But  while  the  watchful 
Jesse  was  away,  Bracken  proceeded  to  get  busy 
in  the  good  old  Howe  and  Hummel  fashion.  Lots 
of  people  that  Herlihy  had  never  seen  before 
turned  up  and  protested  that  he  was  the  finest  fel- 
low they  had  ever  met.  And  as  Herlihy  was,  in 
fact,  a  good  fellow,  he  made  them  welcome  and 
dined  and  wined  at  their  expense  until  he  woke  up 
in  the  Menger  Hotel  in  San  Antonio  and  inquired 
where  he  was. 

Jesse  meantime  had  returned  from  Austin  to 
discover  that  Dodge  with  his  companions,  Kaf- 
fenburgh  and  Bracken,  had  slipped  out  of  Houston 
early  in  the  morning  of  February  nth,  after  dis- 
posing of  Herlihy  and  eluding  the  watchfulness  of 
Herlihy's  assistants.  Hummel  was  leading  and  by 
ten  o'clock  the  next  morning  Dodge  and  his  com- 
rades were  on  board  an  English  merchantman 
lying  in  the  harbor  of  Galveston.  Later  in  the 
same  day  the  Hummel  interests  chartered  from 
the  Southern  Pacific  Railroad  for  the  sum  of  three 
thousand  dollars  the  sea-going  tug  Hughes,  to 
which  Dodge  was  now  transferred  for  the  purpose 
of  being  conveyed  to  the  port  of  Tampico  in  the 
Republic  of  Mexico. 

355 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

But  here  Hummers  wires  became  crossed  with 
Jerome's,  and  unfortunately  for  the  little  lawyer, 
the  persons  from  whom  the  tug  had  been  leased 
turned  out  to  be  closely  allied  with  the  prosecu- 
tion's interests,  with  the  result  that  the  captain  of 
the  tug  was  instructed  by  his  superiors  under  no 
consideration  to  put  into  any  Mexican  port,  but  on 
the  contrary,  to  delay  his  departure  from  the  har- 
bor of  Galveston  for  a  period  of  two  days  and  then 
to  proceed  only  as  far  as  Brownsville,  Texas, 
where  he  should  compel  the  debarkation  of  the 
fugitive.  The  captain,  who  was  a  good  sport  as 
well  as  a  good  officer,  promptly  threw  himself  into 
the  part  and  told  Bracken  and  Kaffenburgh  that  it 
was  evident  from  the  barometer  that  a  severe 
storm  was  approaching  (which  must  have  had  a 
sinister  implication  to  these  two  unfortunate  gen- 
tlemen), and  that  he  could  not  think  of  putting  to 
sea.  Once  the  "storm"  had  blown  over,  the  tug 
started  out  across  the  blue  waters  of  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico.  But  now  Bracken  and  Kaffenburgh  were 
informed  for  the  first  time  that  it  was  impossible 
to  consider  putting  into  any  port  of  the  Republic 
of  Mexico,  since  to  do  so  would  cause  international 
complications  and  compel  the  revocation  of  the 
captain's  license.  In  desperation  the  Hummel 
interests  offered  the  captain  five  thousand  dollars 
in  cash  to  disregard  his  instructions  and  put  into 

356 


A  Flight  Into  Texas 

Tampico,  but  the  worthy  sea-dog  was  adamant. 
It  was  probably  worth  five  thousand  dollars  to  him 
to  see  three  gentry  of  this  pattern  so  much  put 
about. 

While  Dodge  and  his  accomplices  were  dallying 
in  the  harbor  of  Galveston,  Jesse  was  taking  ad- 
vantage of  his  opportunity  to  proceed  at  once  by 
railroad  to  Alice,  Texas,  which  at  that  time  was 
the  furthermost  southern  point  reached  by  any 
railway  in  the  direction  of  Brownsville.  On  his 
arrival,  he  at  once  applied  to  Captain  John  R. 
Hughes,  commanding  Company  D  of  the  Texas 
Rangers,  who  received  him  with  great  joy  and 
ordered  a  detachment  of  the  Rangers  to  meet  the 
tug  at  Point  Isabella  at  the  mouth  of  the  Rio 
Grande  River  on  the  border  of  Mexico.  In  the 
meantime,  Jesse  started  on  a  toilsome  stage  journey 
to  Brownsville,  across  one  hundred  and  seventy 
miles  of  desert,  which  occupied  two  days  and 
nights,  and  necessitated  his  going  without  sleep  for 
that  period.  During  the  trip  Jesse  heard  no  word 
of  English  and  had  as  his  associates  only  Mexican 
cattlemen.  Every  fifteen  miles  a  fresh  relay  of 
broncos  was  hitched  to  the  stage  and  after  a  few 
moments'  rest  the  misery  began  again. 

Jesse  had  been  hurrying  toward  Brownsville  by 
stage  while  Dodge,  Kaffenburgh  and  Bracken  were 
landing  at  Point  Isabella,  where  they  were  kept 

357 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

under  close  surveillance  by  Sergeant  Tom  Ross  of 
the  Rangers.  Thence  they  took  the  train  to 
Brownsville,  registering  at  the  Miller  House  under 
the  assumed  names  of  C.  F.  Dougherty,  A.  Koontz- 
man  and  E.  M.  Barker,  all  of  Oklahoma.  But, 
although  they  knew  it  not,  Sergeant  Tom  was  at 
their  elbow,  and  had  Dodge  attempted  to  cross  the 
border  into  Mexico  he  would  instantly  have  been 
placed  under  arrest. 

As  Brownsville  was  within  the  Southern  Dis- 
trict of  the  Federal  Court  of  Texas,  Jesse  decided 
not  to  arrest  Dodge  until  he  should  actually  at- 
tempt flight,  and  when  Dodge  and  his  companions, 
on  the  following  morning,  February  I5th,  entered 
the  stage  (the  same  upon  which  Jesse  had  arrived) 
and  started  for  Alice,  Jesse  and  Tom  Ross  pro- 
cured the  best  horses  they  could  find  and  started 
after  them,  keeping  just  in  sight  of  the  stage. 
Dodge's  intention  in  making  this  move  was  to  take 
the  Mexican  International  Railway  at  Alice  and 
cross  over  to  Mexico  via  Laredo. 

Jesse  and  Ross  covered  the  seventy-four  miles 
from  Brownsville  to  Santa  La  Cruz  Ranch  by  four 
in  the  afternoon,  which  was  fairly  strenuous  work 
for  a  New  York  detective,  and  here  found  them- 
selves so  sore  and  exhausted  from  their  ride  that 
they  were  glad  to  hire  a  pair  of  horses  and  buggy 
with  which  to  complete  the  journey  to  Alice. 

358 


A  Flight  Into  Texas 

Luckily  they  were  able  to  get  into  telephonic  com- 
munication with  various  ranch  owners  along  the 
road  and  arrange  to  have  fresh  relays  of  horses 
supplied  to  them  every  twenty  miles,  and  here  also 
Jesse  called  up  Captain  Hughes  at  Alice,  and  sug- 
gested that  he  substitute  for  the  regular  night  clerk 
at  the  City  Hotel  one  of  the  privates  of  the  Rangers 
by  the  name  of  Harrod. 

Dodge  and  his  companions  arrived  in  Alice  on 
February  lyth,  and,  as  Jesse  had  anticipated,  re- 
paired at  once  to  the  City  Hotel,  where,  inasmuch 
as  they  were  dry  from  the  dust  of  their  trip  and 
depressed  by  lack  of  society,  they  entered  at  once 
into  an  enthusiastic  and  confidential  friendship 
with  the  man  behind  the  counter  in  the  hotel  office, 
sublimely  ignorant  that  they  were  unfolding  to  a 
member  of  the  Texas  Rangers  all  their  most  secret 
intentions.  Harrod  was  just  as  glad  to  see  Dodge 
as  Dodge  apparently  was  to  see  Harrod,  and  kindly 
offered  to  assist  the  fugitive  to  get  into  Mexico  in 
any  way  that  the  latter  desired.  Dodge,  for  his 
part,  took  advantage  of  his  usefulness  to  the  extent 
of  requesting  him  to  purchase  them  railroad  tick- 
ets, the  plan  being  to  leave  Alice  the  following 
morning  for  Monterey,  Mexico.  Three  hours  after 
the  stage  bearing  Dodge  and  his  party  pulled  up 
at  the  City  Hotel,  Tom  Ross  and  Jesse  drove  in 
behind  a  pair  of  fagged-out  broncos  at  two  in  the 

359 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

morning.  Jesse  had  had  no  sleep  of  any  sort  and 
no  proper  nourishment  for  five  days,  and  had  just 
strength  enough  left  to  drag  himself  up  one  flight 
of  stairs  and  tumble  into  bed,  from  which  he  did 
not  emerge  for  many  hours. 

In  the  meantime  day  broke  and  Dodge,  Kaf- 
fenburgh  and  Bracken,  having  breakfasted,  drove 
comfortably  down  to  the  International  Railway 
Station  and  settled  themselves  in  the  smoker,  but 
they  had  no  sooner  given  this  direct  evidence  of 
their  intention  before  Captain  Hughes  entered  and 
placed  Dodge  under  arrest.  The  latter's  surprise 
may  be  appreciated  when  it  is  stated  that  from  the 
time  the  three  had  left  Houston,  they  had  no  idea 
that  they  were  being  followed  and  believed  that 
they  had  completely  foiled  Jesse  and  his  assistants. 

While  Jesse  had  been  chasing  Dodge  across  the 
desert,  his  lawyers  had  not  been  idle  and  had  se- 
cured at  Austin  another  extradition  warrant  from 
Governor  Lanham,  who,  on  receiving  news  of  the 
arrest,  promptly  instructed  Captain  Hughes  by 
wire,  to  assume  charge  of  the  prisoner  and  to  de- 
liver him  into  the  hands  of  the  New  York  officer  to 
be  conveyed  to  New  York. 

There  now  began  such  a  legal  battle  as  the  State 
of  Texas  had  never  known.  Hummel  had  been 
forced  into  his  last  ditch  and  was  fighting  desper- 
ately for  life.  Through  KafFenburgh  he  at  once 


A  Flight  Into  Texas 

applied  for  a  new  writ  of  habeas  corpus  in  Nueces 
County  and  engaged  counsel  at  Corpus  Christie 
to  assist  in  fighting  for  the  release  of  the  prisoner. 
Precisely  as  Hummel  had  intended,  Chief  Wright 
of  Nueces  rode  into  Alice  and  demanded  the  pris- 
oner from  Captain  Hughes.  As  Hummel  had  not 
intended,  Captain  Hughes  refused  to  surrender  the 

prisoner  and  told  Chief  Wright  to  go  to well, 

he  told  him  that  he  intended  to  obey  his  com- 
mander-in-chief,  the  Governor  of  Texas. 

On  February  20th,  Hummel,  through  Kaffen- 
burgh,  attempted  to  get  another  writ  of  habeas  cor- 
pus in  Bee  County,  and  promptly  the  Bee  chief 
came  buzzing  over  and  demanded  Dodge,  but  to  him 
Hughes  replied  even  as  he  had  spoken  to  Wright. 

Excitement  in  Alice  had  now  reached  such  a 
pitch  that  Judge  Burns,  of  the  Federal  Court,  in 
Houston,  ordered  United  States  Marshal  John  W. 
Vann,  of  Alice,  to  assume  charge  of  the  pris- 
oner. The  indomitable  Hughes,  however,  paid 
no  more  attention  to  the  United  States  Marshal 
than  he  had  to  the  local  chiefs.  But  the  situation 
was  so  delicate  and  the  clash  of  authority  might  so 
easily  have  resulted  in  bloodshed  that  it  was  finally 
agreed  by  all  parties  that  the  best  thing  to  do  was 
to  have  the  prisoner  returned  to  Houston  in  the 
joint  custody  of  Captain  Hughes  of  the  Rangers 
and  the  United  States  Marshal. 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Jesse,  through  his  counsel,  in  proper  course 
made  application  to  forfeit  Dodge's  bond  and  re- 
mand him  to  jail,  but  the  Hummel  attorneys  finally 
induced  the  Court,  on  the  plea  that  to  confine 
Dodge  in  jail  would  be  detrimental  to  his  already 
badly  impaired  health,  to  permit  the  prisoner  to  go 
free  on  a  greatly  increased  bond,  nevertheless  re- 
stricting his  movements  to  Harris  County,  Texas. 

While  Jesse  had  fought  a  winning  battle  up  to 
this  point  he  was  at  the  end  of  his  resources  so  far 
as  the  extradition  of  the  prisoner  was  concerned, 
for  Dodge  was  now  at  liberty,  pending  the  deci- 
sions upon  the  habeas  corpus  proceedings  of  the 
United  States  Circuit  Court  of  Appeals  at  Fort 
Worth,  and  the  United  States  Supreme  Court  at 
Washington.  But  his  orders  were  to  bring  Dodge 
back  to  New  York.  Hence,  with  the  aid  of  some 
new  men  sent  him  from  the  North,  he  commenced 
an  even  closer  surveillance  of  the  prisoner  than 
ever  before  by  both  day  and  night. 

Meantime  KafFenburgh  departed  for  New  York, 
fleeing  from  the  wrath  of  Judge  Burns,  who  had 
issued  a  summons  for  him  for  contempt  of  the 
Federal  Court  on  the  ground  that  he  had  induced 
Dodge  to  attempt  to  jump  his  bond.  In  place  of 
the  blustering  KafFenburgh  was  sent  another 
member  of  the  famous  law  firm  of  Howe  and 
Hummel,  David  May,  an  entirely  different  type 

362 


A  Flight  Into  Texas 

of  man.  May  was  as  mild  as  a  day  in  June — as 
urbane  as  Kaffenburgh  had  been  insolent.  He 
fluttered  into  Houston  like  a  white  dove  of  peace 
with  the  proverbial  olive  branch  in  his  mouth. 
From  now  on  the  tactics  employed  by  the  repre- 
sentatives of  Hummel  were  conciliatory  in  the 
extreme.  Mr.  May,  however,  did  not  long  re- 
main in  Houston,  as  it  was  apparent  that  there 
was  nothing  to  be  done  by  either  side  pending 
the  action  of  the  courts,  and  in  any  event  Dodge 
was  abundantly  supplied  with  local  counsel.  The 
time  had  now  come  when  Hummel  must  have 
begun  to  feel  that  the  fates  were  against  him  and 
that  a  twenty-year  term  in  state  prison  was  a 
concrete  possibility  even  for  him. 

In  the  meantime,  Dodge  and  Bracken  had  taken 
up  their  headquarters  at  the  Rice  Hotel  in  the 
most  expensive  suite  of  rooms  in  the  house,  a  new 
scheme  for  getting  the  prisoner  beyond  the  reach 
of  the  New  York  courts  apparently  having  been 
concocted.  Dodge  was  now  indulged  in  every 
conceivable  luxury  and  vice.  He  was  plunged  into 
every  sort  of  excess,  there  was  no  debauchery 
which  Bracken  could  supply  that  was  not  his  and 
their  rapid  method  of  existence  was  soon  the  talk 
of  the  county  and  continued  to  be  so  for  ten  long 
months.  There  is  more  than  one  way  to  kill  a  cat 
and  more  than  one  method  of  wiping  out  the  only 

363 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

existing  witness  against  a  desperate  man  striving 
to  escape  the  consequences  of  crime. 

Dodge's  daily  routine  was  somewhat  as  follows: 
He  never  slept  at  his  own  hotel,  but  arose  in  the 
morning  between  ten  and  eleven  o'clock,  when  he 
was  at  once  visited  by  Bracken  and  supplied  with 
numerous  drinks  in  lieu  of  the  breakfast  for  which 
he  never  had  any  desire.  At  noon  the  two  would 
have  luncheon  with  more  drinks.  In  the  afternoon 
they  would  retire  to  the  pool  rooms  and  play  the 
races,  and,  when  the  races  were  over,  they  would 
then  visit  the  faro  banks  and  gamble  until  mid- 
night or  later.  Later  on  they  would  proceed  to 
another  resort  on  Louisiana  Street  where  Dodge 
really  lived.  Here  his  day  may  be  said  to  have 
begun  and  here  he  spent  most  of  his  money,  fre- 
quently paying  but  as  much  as  fifty  dollars  a  night 
for  wine  and  invariably  ending  in  a  beastly  state  of 
intoxication.  It  is  quite  probable  that  never  in  the 
history  of  debauchery  has  any  one  man  ever  been 
so  indulged  in  excesses  of  every  sort  for  the  same 
period  of  time  as  Dodge  was  during  the  summer 
and  fall  of  1904.  The  fugitive  never  placed  his 
foot  on  mother  earth.  If  they  were  going  only  a 
block,  Bracken  called  for  a  cab,  and  the  two 
seemed  to  take  a  special  delight  in  making  Jesse,  as 
Jerome's  representative,  spend  as  much  money  in 
cab  hire  as  possible.  The  Houston  jehus  never 

364 


A  Flight  Into  Texas 

again  experienced  so  profitable  a  time  as  they  did 
during  Dodge's  wet  season;  and  the  life  of  dissi- 
pation was  continued  until,  from  time  to  time,  the 
prisoner  became  so  weak  from  its  effects  that  he 
was  forced  to  go  under  the  care  of  a  physician. 
A  few  days  of  abstinence  always  restored  his  vitality 
and  he  would  then  start  out  upon  another  round 
of  pleasure. 

During  this  period  Jesse  maintained  a  close  and 
vigilant  personal  espionage  over  the  prisoner.  For 
over  ten  months  he  slept  less  than  four  hours  each 
day,  his  fatigue  being  increased  by  the  constant 
apprehension  of  treachery  among  his  own  men, 
and  the  necessity  of  being  ever  on  the  alert  to  pre- 
vent some  move  on  the  part  of  the  defense  to  spirit 
the  prisoner  away.  During  the  summer  attempts 
were  repeatedly  made  to  evade  the  vigilance  of 
Jesse  and  his  men  and  several  desperate  dashes 
were  frustrated  by  them,  including  one  occasion 
when  Bracken  succeeded  in  rushing  Dodge  as 
far  as  Galveston,  where  they  were  forced  to 
abandon  their  design. 

From  time  to  time  Bracken  would  disappear 
from  Houston  for  a  week  or  ten  days,  stating  on 
his  return  that  he  had  been  to  New  York,  after 
which  there  was  invariably  some  new  move  to  get 
the  prisoner  away.  Time  and  space  prevent  giving 
a  detailed  account  of  all  the  marches  and  counter- 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

marches  that  took  place  in  this  battle  of  wit  against 
wit. 

In  August,  1904,  Bracken  made  one  of  his  peri- 
odical visits  to  New  York,  and  when  he  returned 
sought  out  Jesse  and  said :  "  Blocher,  you  might  as 
well  be  a  good  fellow  and  get  yours  while  you  can. 
I  mean  that  Dodge  is  not  going  back  to  New  York, 
even  if  it  cost  a  million  dollars  to  prevent  it."  A 
few  days  later  Bracken  sent  a  gambler  named 
Warner  to  Jesse,  who  offered  the  latter  thirty-five 
hundred  dollars  to  get  "lost"  long  enough  for  the 
prisoner  to  slip  over  to  Mexico.  Acting  upon  the 
advice  of  his  attorney,  Jesse  encouraged  this  at- 
tempt, under  the  belief  that  if  he  could  get  the 
Hummel  forces  in  the  position  of  having  attempted 
to  bribe  him  the  prisoner's  bail  could  then  be  for- 
feited and  Dodge  himself  taken  into  custody. 
Hummel  became  wary,  however,  and  apparently 
abandoned  for  the  time  the  idea  of  bribery.  Later 
on  Bracken  again  disappeared.  On  his  return  a 
marked  change  was  noticeable  in  his  demeanor 
and  Jesse  observed  that  he  was  in  constant  con- 
sultation with  Dodge,  from  which  the  detective 
drew  the  inference  that  some  last  desperate  move 
was  to  be  made  towards  the  escape  of  the  prisoner. 

On  one  occasion  Jesse  saw  Bracken  showing 
Dodge  a  map  and  some  drawings  on  paper,  which 
so  excited  his  suspicions  that  he  followed  the  two 


A  Flight  Into  Texas 

with  unremitting  assiduity,  and  within  a  day  or 
two  was  rewarded  through  Bracken's  carelessness 
with  an  opportunity  for  going  through  the  latter* s 
coat  pockets  in  the  billiard  room.  Here  he  found 
a  complete  set  of  plans  worked  out  in  every  detail 
for  spiriting  the  prisoner  from  San  Antonio  into 
Mexico  during  the  State  Fair.  These  plans  were 
very  elaborate,  every  item  having  been  planned 
out  from  the  purchase  of  tickets,  and  passing  of 
baggage  through  the  customs,  to  hotel  accommo- 
dation in  the  City  of  Mexico  and  Tampico,  and 
steamship  tickets  from  Tampico  to  Europe. 

The  plan  had  been  to  secure  permission  from 
the  Court  for  Dodge  to  leave  Houston  long  enough 
ostensibly  to  attend  the  Fair  at  San  Antonio  and  to 
"lose"  him  during  the  excitement  and  crowded 
condition  of  the  city  at  that  time. 

It  is,  of  course,  needless  to  say  that  these  plans 
were  abandoned  when  Bracken  discovered  that 
Jesse  had  been  forewarned. 

Almost  immediately  thereafter  the  Circuit  Court 
of  Appeals  at  Fort  Worth,  Texas,  decided  one  of 
the  habeas  corpus  cases  adversely  to  Dodge  but 
it  still  permitted  him  to  retain  his  liberty  pending 
the  final  determination  of  the  questions  involved 
by  the  Supreme  Court  at  Washington. 

The  Hummel  forces  were  apparently  losing  hope, 
however,  for  early  in  October  another  attempt  was 

36? 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

made  to  bribe  Jesse.  Bracken  entered  his  room 
one  evening  and  informed  him  that  he  could  get 
his  own  price  if  he  would  only  be  a  good  fellow, 
and  even  went  so  far  as  to  exhibit  a  quantity  of 
money  which  he  stated  was  twenty-five  thousand 
dollars.  The  only  result  of  this  offer  was  to  lead 
Jesse  to  redouble  his  precautions,  for  he  argued 
that  the  situation  must  indeed  be  acute  when  such 
an  offer  could  be  deemed  worth  while.  Thereafter 
it  was  obvious  that  the  revelry  of  Dodge  and  his 
companions  was  on  the  increase.  Accordingly 
Jesse  added  to  his  force  of  assistants. 

On  December  2,  1904,  Nathaniel  Cohen,  another 
member  of  the  firm  of  Howe  and  Hummel,  arrived 
at  Houston,  and  the  next  day  the  Supreme  Court 
at  Washington  decided  the  appeal  in  the  habeas 
corpus  against  the  prisoner,  who  was  at  once  or- 
dered by  Judge  Burns  into  the  custody  of  United 
States  Marshal  William  M.  Hanson. 

Things  looked  black  indeed  for  Dodge  and 
blacker  still  for  Hummel.  How  the  little  attorney, 
eating  his  midday  lunch  four  thousand  miles  away, 
at  Pontin's  restaurant  on  Franklin  Street,  must 
have  trembled  in  his  patent  leather  boots!  His 
last  emissary,  Cohen,  at  once  procured  an  assistant 
by  the  name  of  Brookman  and  with  him  proceeded 
to  Wharton  County,  Texas,  where  they  secured  a 
new  writ  of  habeas  corpus  and  induced  the  local 

368 


A  Flight  Into  Texas 

sheriff,  one  Rich,  to  swear  in  a  posse  comitatus  of 
one  hundred  men  for  the  purpose  of  coming  to 
Houston  to  take  the  prisoner  by  force  of  arms  out 
of  the  hands  of  the  United  States  Marshal. 

This  was  one  of  the  most  daring  and  desperate 
attempts  made  in  recent  years  to  frustrate  the  law. 
Jesse  believes  that  the  real  object  of  this  posse  was 
to  precipitate  a  fight  between  themselves  and  the 
Federal  authorities.  It  is  not  inconceivable  that 
in  such  an  event  Dodge  might  either  have  escaped 
or  been  killed.  The  men  composing  the  posse 
were  of  the  most  desperate  character,  and  consisted 
largely  of  the  so-called  "feud  factions"  of  Wharton 
County,  known  as  "The  Wood  Peckers"  and  "The 
Jay  Birds."  Jesse  has  been  informed,  on  what  he 
regards  as  reliable  authority,  that  this  move  cost 
the  Hummel  forces  fifteen  thousand  dollars  and 
that  each  member  of  the  posse  received  one  hundred 
dollars  for  his  contemplated  services  in  the  "res- 
cue" of  the  prisoner.  But  civil  war,  even  on  a 
small  scale,  cannot  be  indulged  in  without  some 
inkling  of  the  facts  becoming  known  to  the  author- 
ities, and  prior  to  the  receipt  of  the  mandate  of  the 
Supreme  Court,  Judge  Burns  ordered  the  prisoner 
removed  to  Galveston  for  safe  keeping. 

Thus  the  long,  expensive  and  arduous  stiiggle 
came  finally  to  an  end,  for  Judge  Burns  in  due 
course,  ordered  that  Charles  F.  Dodge  should  be 

369 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

conveyed  to  New  York  in  the  personal  custody  of 
the  United  States  Marshal  and  delivered  by  him  to 
the  New  York  authorities  "within  the  borders  of 
that  State."  Such  an  order  was,  of  course,  exceed- 
ingly unusual,  if  not  almost  unheard  of,  but  it  was 
rendered  absolutely  necessary  by  the  powerful  in- 
fluence and  resources,  as  well  as  the  unscrupulous 
character,  of  those  interested  in  securing  Dodge's 
disappearance. 

In  order  to  thwart  any  plans  for  releasing  the 
prisoner  by  violence  or  otherwise,  and  to  prevent 
delay  through  the  invoking  of  legal  technicalities, 
Hansen  and  Jesse  decided  to  convey  Dodge  to 
New  York  by  water,  and  on  the  i6th  of  December, 
the  Marshal  and  his  five  deputies  boarded  a 
Mallory  Line  steamer  at  Galveston  and  arrived  in 
New  York  with  their  prisoner  on  the  evening  of 
December  ajd. 

Dodge  reached  New  York  a  physical  wreck. 
How  he  was  induced  to  tell  the  whole  truth  after 
he  had  pleaded  guilty  to  the  charge  against  him  is 
a  story  in  itself.  A  complete  reaction  from  his 
dissipation  now  occurred  and  for  days  his  life  was 
despaired  of.  Jesse,  too,  was,  as  the  expression  is, 
"  all  in,"  and  the  only  persons  who  were  still  able 
to  appreciate  the  delights  of  New  York  were  the 
stalwart  Marshal  and  his  boys,  who  for  some  time 
were  objects  of  interest  as  they  strolled  along 


A  Flight  Into  Texas 

Broadway  and  drank  "deep  and  hearty"  in  the 
cafes.  To  the  assistants  in  the  District  Attorney's 
office  they  were  heroes  and  were  treated  as  such. 

How  Dodge  finally  testified  against  Hummel  on 
the  witness  stand  has  already  been  told.  As  they 
say  down-town,  if  Jerome  had  never  done  any- 
thing else,  he  would  have  "made  good"  by  locking 
up  Abe  Hummel.  No  one  ever  believed  he  would 
do  it.  But  Jerome  never  would  have  locked  up 
Hummel  without  Jesse.  And,  as  Jesse  says  with 
a  laugh,  leaning  back  in  his  chair  and  taking  a 
long  pull  on  his  cigar,  "I  guess  I  would  not  do  it 
again — no,  I  would  not  do  it  again  for  all  the 
money  you  could  give  me.  The  wonder  is  that 
I  came  out  of  it  alive."  When  the  reader  comes 
to  think  about  it  he  will  probably  agree  with  him. 


371 


A  CASE  OF  CIRCUMSTANTIAL 
EVIDENCE 


XIII 

A  Case  of  Circumstantial 
Evidence 

TN  the  town  of  Culiano,  in  the  province  of  Sa- 
JL  lano,  in  Italy,  there  dwelt  a  widow  by  the 
iame  of  Torsielli,  with  her  two  sons,  Vito  and 
Antonio.  The  boys  loved  their  mother  devotedly 
and  were  no  less  fond  of  each  other,  the  height  of 
their  ambition  being  to  earn  enough  money  to 
support  her  in  comfort  without  need  of  working  in 
her  old  age.  As  it  was,  she  arose  before  light,  made 
the  fire,  cooked  their  breakfast  and  labored  in  and 
about  the  house  all  day  until  they  returned  from 
the  fields.  But  she  was  getting  old  and  at  last  be- 
came bedridden  and  infirm.  She  could  no  longer 
cook  the  meals,  and  the  boys  had  to  shift  for  them- 
selves. Moreover,  instead  of  finding  her  standing 
at  the  door  with  a  smile  on  her  wrinkled  face,  wel- 
coming them  to  supper  on  their  return,  the  fire  was 
always  out  and  their  mother  lay  on  her  couch,  no 
less  glad  to  see  them,  to  be  sure,  but  no  longer  able 
to  amuse  them  or  minister  to  their  comfort.  Then 

375 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

.the  taxes  were  increased  and  hard  times  came. 
By  twos  and  threes  the  men  of  the  village  packed 
their  bundles,  bade  good-by  to  their  friends  and 
families,  and  left  the  town,  some  to  seek  work  in 
other  parts  of  Italy,  but  most  of  them  to  take  the 
big  iron  steamships  for  America,  where  work  was 
easy  and  money  plentiful.  Sadly  the  boys  watched 
their  comrades  depart.  They  would  have  liked  to 
go,  too,  to  seek  their  fortunes  in  this  new  land  of 
promise,  but  they  could  not  leave  their  mother. 
The  following  year  some  of  the  men  who  had  gone 
away  to  America  returned  in  fine  clothes  and  with 
full  purses  to  tell  of  the  wonderful  country  beyond 
the  seas,  where  one  could  always  earn  his  ten  lire 
every  day  and  do  as  he  liked.  "Viva  la  liberty!" 
they  cried,  pounding  the  tables  in  the  cafe. 
"Come,  comrades!  We  have  plenty  of  money. 
Drink  to  the  great  country  of  America !" 

Vito  and  Antonio  listened  with  envy.  One 
evening  the  elder  brother  asked  Antonio  to  come 
to  walk  with  him.  When  they  had  gone  a  little 
way  he  said  suddenly: 

"Toni,  I  think  I  shall  go  to  this  America.  We 
need  more  money  to  make  our  mother  comforta- 
ble. If  we  wait  until  she  is  dead  the  money  will 
be  of  no  use.  You  can  stay  here,  and  when  I  have 
made  a  place  for  you  and  her,  you  shall  bring  her 
on  the  ship  to  the  new  country." 

376 


A  Case  of  Circumstantial  Evidence 

Vito  was  five  years  older  than  Antonio,  and  his 
word  had  always  been  law  to  the  younger  brother, 
so  although  he  was  sick  at  heart  at  the  thought  of 
being  left  behind,  he  said  nothing  against  the  proj- 
ect, but  tried  to  make  it  easy  for  Vito  with  their 
mother.  The  old  woman  could  not  bear  the 
thought  of  her  firstborn  leaving  her,  and  declared, 
with  the  tears  running  down  her  face,  that  she 
should  never  see  him  again,  but  at  last  she  yielded 
to  their  persuasions  and  gave  Vito  her  blessing.  It 
would  be  only  a  little  while  before  she  and  Toni 
would  join  him,  and  they  would  be  happy  ever 
after. 

Then  Toni  was  left  alone  with  his  mother. 
Every  day  he  arose  at  the  first  streak  of  dawn,  pre- 
pared breakfast,  cleaned  the  house,  saw  that  his 
mother  was  comfortable  and  then  started  off  for 
the  fields.  A  month  went  by,  two  months,  three, 
a  year,  but  no  word  came  from  Vito.  Toni  as- 
sured the  poor  old  woman  that  they  would  cer- 
tainly hear  from  him  the  next  week  or  the  next, 
but  cruel  fear  had  taken  possession  of  him.  Some- 
thing had  happened  to  his  brother!  The  years 
swept  on.  Their  mother  became  more  and  more 
helpless.  Antonio  was  obliged  to  hire  a  woman  to 
care  for  her  as  nurse  for  a  small  sum,  but  it  was 
just  enough  to  leave  only  a  pittance  for  them  to 
live  on.  Toni  grew  thin  and  haggard.  Where 

377 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

could  Vito  be  ?  Was  he  alive  or  dead  ?  Next  to 
his  love  for  Nicoletta  Lupero  it  became  the  great 
passion  of  his  life  to  learn  what  had  become  of 
Vito. 

He  had  known  Nicoletta  from  a  child  and  their 
love  had  followed  as  naturally  as  summer  follows 
spring.  It  had  always  been  "Toni"  and  "Nico- 
letta" ever  since  he  could  remember.  But  she  was 
growing  up,  and  from  a  boy  he  had  become  a  man. 
Yet  how  could  he  marry  when  he  could  hardly 
earn  enough  to  support  his  mother  and  himself? 
They  talked  it  over  time  and  time  again.  If  Vito 
would  only  return  or  good  times  come  it  might  be 
possible.  But  meantime  there  was  nothing  to  do 
but  wait.  Nicoletta  blossomed  into  womanhood. 
Had  she  not  been  betrothed  she  would  have  been 
called  an  old  maid.  Neither  she  nor  Toni  took  any 
part  in  the  village  merrymakings.  Why  should 
they  ?  He  was  thirty  and  she  twenty-five.  They 
might  have  married  ten  years  ago  had  not  the 
elder  brother  gone  away.  Toni  secretly  feared  that 
the  time  would  never  come  when  they  would  be 
man  and  wife,  but  he  patiently  labored  on  earning 
his  two  lire,  or  at  most  two  lire  and  a  half,  a  day. 

Then  a  man  returned  from  America  just  for  the 
harvest  to  see  his  family.  He  said  that  Vito  was 
alive.  He  had  not  seen  him  himself,  but  others 
had  seen  him  and  he  was  rich.  He  told  of  the 

378 


A  Case  of  Circumstantial  Evidence 

plentifulness  of  gold  in  America,  where  every  one 
was  comfortable  and  could  lay  up  a  fortune.  He 
himself  had  saved  over  five  thousand  lire  in  four 
years  and  owned  a  one-third  interest  in  a  fruit 
store.  He  was  going  to  take  his  brother's  family 
back  with  him — all  of  them.  They  would  be 
rich,  too,  in  a  little  while.  A  man  was  a  fool  to 
stay  in  Italy.  Why  did  not  Toni  come  back  with 
him  ?  He  would  get  him  a  place  on  the  railroad 
where  one  of  his  friends  was  padrone. 

Toni  discussed  it  all  with  Nicoletta,  and  she 
talked  with  the  man  herself. 

"Toni,"  she  said  at  length,  "why  do  you  not 
go  ?  Here  you  are  earning  nothing.  There  you 
could  save  in  a  month  enough  to  keep  your  mother 
in  comfort  for  a  year.  You  have  to  pay  the  nurse, 
and  that  takes  a  great  deal.  While  you  are  here 
it  would  cause  talk  if  I  came  to  live  in  your  home 
to  care  for  your  mother  but  if  you  go  away  I  can 
do  so  without  comment  and  it  will  cost  nothing. 
Perhaps  you  will  find  Vito.  If  not  you  will  soon 
make  enough  to  send  for  both  your  mother  and 


me." 


"  You  are  a  good  girl,"  he  answered,  kissing  her, 
"but  I  could  not  shift  the  responsibility  of  my 
mother  to  your  shoulders.  Still,  I  will  talk  to 
Father  Giuseppi  about  it." 

The  priest  thought  well  of  the  plan  (he  was  a 
379 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

little  excited  over  America  himself),  and  agreed  to 
break  the  matter  to  the  mother. 

She  begged  Toni  piteously  not  to  go.  He  was 
her  only  surviving  son.  Vito  was  dead.  Let  him 
but  wait  a  little  while  and  she  would  not  be  there 
to  stand  in  his  way.  Then  the  priest  added  his 
personal  assurance  that  it  would  be  for  the  best, 
and  the  mother  finally  gave  way.  Toni  was 
obliged  to  tear  himself  away  by  force  from  the 
arms  of  the  old  woman  lying  upon  the  bed,  and 
her  feeble  sobs  echoed  in  his  ears  as  he  trudged 
down  the  road  with  the  scarf  Nicoletta  had  worked 
about  his  neck,  and  a  small  bundle  of  his  tools  and 
most  precious  possessions  on  his  shoulder.  A 
couple  of  miles  farther  on  came  another  harrowing 
parting  with  his  betrothed,  and  from  the  top  of  the 
next  rise  beyond  he  could  see  Nicoletta  still  stand- 
ing at  the  crossroads  gazing  pitifully  after  him. 
Thus  many  an  Italian,  for  good  or  ill,  has  left  the 
place  of  his  birth  for  the  mysterious  land  of  the 
Golden  West. 

The  voyage  was  for  Antonio  an  unalloyed  agony 
of  seasickness  and  homesickness,  and  when  at  last 
the  great  vessel  steamed  slowly  up  the  North 
River,  her  band  playing  and  the  emigrants  crowd- 
ing eagerly  to  her  sides,  he  had  hardly  spirit  enough 
left  to  raise  his  eyes  to  the  mountains  of  huge 
buildings  from  whose  craters  the  white  smoke 

380 


A  Case  of  Circumstantial  Evidence 

rose  slowly  and  blew  away  in  great  wind-torn 
clouds.  Yet  he  felt  some  of  the  awakening  enthu- 
siasm of  his  comrades,  and  when  once  his  feet 
touched  earth  again  it  was  not  long  before  he  al- 
most forgot  his  sufferings  upon  the  ocean  in  his 
feverish  anxiety  to  lose  no  time  in  beginning  to 
save  the  money  which  should  reunite  him  to  Nico- 
letta  and  his  mother.  As  soon  as  the  vessel  had 
docked  a  blustering  Italian  came  among  the  emi- 
grants and  tagged  a  few  dozen  of  them,  including 
Antonio,  with  large  blue  labels,  and  then  led  them 
in  a  long,  straggling  line  across  the  gangplank  and 
marched  them  through  the  muddy  streets  to  the 
railroad  train.  Here  they  huddled  in  a  dirty  car 
filled  with  smoke  and  were  whirled  with  frightful 
speed  for  hours  through  a  flat  and  smiling  country. 
The  noise,  the  smoke  and  the  unaccustomed  mo- 
tion made  Antonio  ill  again,  and  when  the  train 
stopped  at  Lambertville,  New  Jersey,  the  padrone 
had  difficulty  in  rousing  him  from  the  animal-like 
stupor  into  which  he  had  fallen. 

The  Italians  crowded  together  upon  the  plat- 
form, gazing  helplessly  at  one  another  and  at  the 
padrone,  who  was  cursing  them  for  a  lot  of  stupid 
fools,  and  bidding  them  get  upon  a  flat  car  that 
stood  upon  a  siding.  Antonio  had  to  be  pushed 
upon  it  by  main  force,  but  the  journey  this  time  was 
short,  and  in  half  an  hour  he  found  himself  upon 

381 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

an  embankment  where  hundreds  of  Italians  were 
laboring  with  pick  and  shovel  in  the  broiling  sun. 
Here  he  also  was  given  a  pick  and  told  to  go  to  work. 
Toni  soon  became  accustomed  to  his  new  sur- 
roundings. Every  night  he  and  the  rest  were  car- 
ried to  Lambertville  on  flat  cars  and  in  the  morn- 
ings were  brought  back  to  the  embankment.  The 
work  was  no  harder  than  that  to  which  he  had  been 
used,  and  he  soon  became  himself  again.  More- 
over, he  found  many  of  his  old  friends  from  Culiano 
working  there.  In  the  evenings  they  walked 
through  the  streets  of  the  town  or  sat  under  the 
trees  playing  mora  and  tocco.  His  letters  home 
were  quite  enthusiastic  regarding  the  pleasant 
character  of  the  life.  To  be  sure  he  could  not 
write  himself,  but  his  old  friend  Antonio  Strollo, 
who  had  lived  at  Valva,  only  a  mile  from  Culiano, 
acted  as  his  amanuensis.  He  was  very  fond  of 
Strollo,  who  was  a  dashing  fellow,  very  merry  and 
quite  the  beau  of  the  colony,  in  his  wonderful  red 
socks  and  neckties  of  many  colors.  Strollo  could 
read  and  write,  and,  besides,  he  knew  Antonio's 
mother  and  Nicoletta,  and  when  Toni  found  him- 
self unable  to  express  his  thoughts  Strollo  helped 
him  out.  When  the  answers  came  he  read  them  to 
Toni  and  joined  in  the  latter's  pleasure.  Toni 
himself  soon  became  a  favorite  in  Lambertville, 
for  he  was  simple  and  gentle,  and  full  of  good-will 

382 


A  Case  of  Circumstantial  Evidence 

for  everybody.  He  was  very  good-looking,  too, 
with  his  handsome  Roman  profile,  snapping  black 
eyes  and  black  curly  locks.  Yet  he  was  sad  al- 
ways, especially  so  as  since  his  arrival  in  America 
he  had  made  no  progress  toward  finding  Vito. 
From  time  to  time  he  met  other  Italians  who  had 
been  working  elsewhere,  who  thought  they  had 
seen  him  or  some  one  that  looked  like  him.  But 
inquiry  always  elicited  the  fact  that  their  desire  to 
give  him  encouragement  was  greater  than  the  ac- 
curacy of  their  memories.  Of  course  Antonio 
Strollo,  who  had  become  Toni's  inseparable  friend, 
shared  all  his  eagerness  to  find  Vito.  In  fact,  Toni 
had  no  thought  that  he  did  not  confide  to  his 
friend,  and  it  was  really  the  latter  who  composed 
the  love  letters  to  Nicoletta  and  the  affectionate 
epistles  to  the  mother. 

Every  month  Toni  divided  what  he  earned  into 
three  parts.  One  of  them  he  deposited  in  the  sav- 
ings-bank, another  he  invested  in  a  money  order 
which  was  sent  by  Strollo  to  Nicoletta  for  the 
mother,  and  the  last  he  kept  for  himself.  It  was 
astounding  how  fast  one  really  could  make  money 
if  one  was  industrious.  Forty  dollars  a  month, 
sometimes !  That  made  nearly  seventy  lire  to  send 
to  Nicoletta.  His  bank  account  grew  steadily,  and 
he  often  saved  something  out  of  the  money  he 
allowed  himself  to  live  upon. 

383 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Antonio  Strollo,  on  the  other  hand,  was  lazy  and 
spent  all  his  wages  on  chianti,  neckties,  waistcoats, 
and  gambling.  Sometimes  he  would  do  nothing 
for  a  whole  month  but  loiter  around  the  streets 
smoking  cigars  and  ogling  the  village  girls.  These 
last  were  afraid  of  him  and  called  him  "The  Dare 
Devil." 

Toni  worked  on  the  embankment  for  three 
years,  sending  his  money  with  a  letter  to  Nicoletta 
every  month.  The  mother  still  lived  and  Nicoletta 
was  giving  up  her  own  life  to  take  care  of  her,  but 
the  old  woman  was  very  feeble  and  no  longer  had 
any  hope  of  seeing  either  of  her  sons  again.  More- 
over, she  was  now  so  bedridden  that  it  was  useless 
to  think  of  trying  to  move  her,  even  if  Toni  had 
plenty  of  money.  No,  as  soon  as  he  was  satisfied 
that  Vito  could  not  be  found  and  had  saved  enough 
money  he  must  return.  How  she  begged  him  to 
return!  As  Strollo  read  him  the  girl's  letters  Toni 
wept  bitter  tears  and  Strollo  wept  likewise  in 
sympathy.  But  no  word  came  of  Vito. 

Toni,  anxious  about  his  mother,  despairing  of 
ever  finding  his  brother,  pining  for  Nicoletta  and 
with  three  hundred  dollars  lying  in  the  savings- 
bank,  decided  to  return  to  Italy.  But  if  only  he 
could  find  Vito  first!  Then  Antonio  Strollo  had 
an  idea.  Why  not  advertise,  he  suggested.  He 
wondered  that  they  had  never  thought  of  it  before. 

384 


A  Case  of  Circumstantial  Evidence 

They  would  put  a  notice  in  //  Progresso,  the  Ital- 
ian paper  in  New  York,  and  see  what  would  come 
of  it.  Toni  agreed  that  the  idea  was  good,  so 
Strollo  wrote  the  notice  offering  a  reward  for  news 
of  Vito. 

Two  months  passed,  once  more  Toni  gave  up 
hope,  and  then,  O-never-to-be-forgotten  day!  a 
letter  came  from  the  post-office  from  Vito!  Toni 
threw  his  arms  about  Strollo  and  kissed  him  for 
joy.  Vito  was  found  at  last!  The  letter,  dated 
Yonkers,  New  York,  told  how  Vito  had  by  chance 
heard  of  Toni's  notice  and  learned  that  he  was  in 
America.  He  himself,  he  said,  had  prospered  and 
was  a  padrone,  employing  many  workmen  on  the 
water-works.  He  begged  Toni  for  news  of  their 
mother.  He  confessed  himself  an  ungrateful  son 
never  to  have  written,  but  he  had  married  and  had 
had  children,  and  he  had  assumed  that  she  was 
being  cared  for  by  his  brother.  Toni  must  forgive 
him  and  come  to  him  at  once. 

"O  Dio!"  cried  Toni,  the  tears  in  his  eyes. 
"  Forgive  him  ?  Of  course  I  will  forgive  him  I 
Come,  Antonio,  let  us  write  my  dear  brother  a  let- 
ter without  delay  and  tell  him  that  our  mother  is 
still  alive.  How  should  I  like  to  see  his  wife  and 
babies!" 

So  they  prepared  a  long  letter  which  Strollo  took 
to  the  post-office  himself  and  mailed.  Toni  went 

385 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

back  to  work  with  joy  in  his  heart  and  whistled 
and  sang  all  day  long,  and,  of  course,  he  wrote  all 
about  it  to  Nicoletta.  He  was  only  waiting  for  his 
month  to  be  up  before  starting.  Then  he  would 
go  to  Yonkers,  make  Vito  a  little  visit,  and  return 
home  to  Italy.  It  would  be  easy  enough,  after  that, 
for  Vito  would  send  them  money,  if  necessary,  to 
live  upon. 

Several  letters  passed  between  the  brothers,  and 
at  the  end  of  the  month  Toni  drew  out  his  money 
from  the  bank,  received  his  wages  in  full,  and  pre- 
pared to  leave  Lambertville.  Meantime  a  letter 
had  come  from  Nicoletta  telling  of  his  mother's 
joy  at  learning  that  Vito  was  still  alive. 

As  Toni  had  doubts  as  to  his  ability  to  find  his 
way  to  Yonkers,  Strollo  kindly  offered  to  accom- 
pany him.  Toni  had  made  many  friends  during 
his  three-years'  stay  in  Lambertville,  and  he  prom- 
ised to  write  to  them  and  tell  them  about  Vito  and 
his  family,  so  it  was  agreed  that  the  letter  should 
be  sent  to  Sabbatto  Gizzi,  in  whose  house  he  had 
lived,  and  that  Gizzi  should  read  it  to  the  others. 
The  address  was  written  carefully  on  a  piece  of 
paper  and  given  to  Toni. 

So  early  in  the  morning  of  August  i6th,  1903, 
Toni  and  Strollo  took  the  train  for  New  York.  It 
was  a  hot  day,  and  once  again  the  motion  and 
speed  made  Toni  feel  ill,  but  the  thought  of  seeing 

386 


A  Case  of  Circumstantial  Evidence 

Vito  buoyed  him  up,  and  by  the  time  they  had 
crossed  the  ferry  and  had  actually  reached  New 
York  he  was  very  hungry.  In  his  excitement  he 
had  forgotten  to  eat  any  breakfast  and  was  now 
beginning  to  feel  faint.  But  Strollo  said  it  was  a 
long  way  to  Yonkers  and  that  they  must  not  stop. 
For  many  hours  they  trudged  the  streets  without 
getting  anywhere  and  then  Strollo  said  it  was  time 
to  take  the  cars.  Toni  was  very  tired,  and  he  had 
to  climb  many  flights  of  stairs  to  the  train.  It  car- 
ried them  a  long  distance,  past  miles  of  tenement 
houses  and  vacant  lots,  and  at  last  into  a  sort  of 
country.  Strollo  said  they  should  get  out.  It  was 
very  hot  and  Toni  was  weak  from  weariness  and 
lack  of  food,  but  his  heart  was  light  and  he  followed 
Strollo  steadily  down  the  wilting  road.  After  go- 
ing about  a  mile  they  crossed  some  fields  near 
where  people  were  playing  a  game  at  hitting  little 
balls  with  sticks.  It  was  astonishing  how  far  they 
could  strike  the  balls — entirely  out  of  sight. 

"Is  this  Yonkers  ?"  asked  Toni. 

"It  is. near  here/*  answered  Strollo.  "We  are 
going  by  a  short  way." 

They  entered  some  thick  woods  and  came  out 
upon  another  field.  Toni  was  now  so  faint  that  he 
begged  his  friend  to  stop. 

"Can  we  not  get  some  food  ?"  he  inquired;  "I 
can  hardly  walk." 

387 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

"There  is  a  man  in  that  field,"  said  Strollo 
"Go  and  ask  him." 

So  Toni  plodded  over  to  the  man  who  was  dig- 
ging mushrooms  and  asked  him  in  broken  English 
where  they  could  get  something  to  eat.  The  man 
told  him  that  it  was  a  long  way.  They  would  have 
to  take  the  trolley  to  Yonkers.  There  was  a  res- 
taurant there  called  the  "  Promised  Land,"  where 
one  could  get  Italian  dishes.  He  seemed  to  take  a 
kindly  intefest  in  Toni  and  in  Strollo,  who  had 
remained  some  distance  behind,  and  Toni  gave 
him  a  cigar — a  "Cremo" — the  last  one  he  had. 
Then  Strollo  led  the  way  back  into  the  woods. 

It  was  almost  sunset,  and  the  long,  low  beams 
slanting  through  the  tree  trunks  made  it  hard  to 
see.  They  went  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  woods 
Presently  Strollo,  who  was  leading  the  way,  stopped 
and  said: 

"We  are  going  in  the  wrong  direction.  We  must 
turn  around  and  go  back." 

Toni  turned.  As  he  did  so  Strollo  drew  a 
long  knife  and  plunged  it  again  and  again  through 
Toni's  body. 

Strollo  spent  that  night,  under  an  assumed  name, 
at  the  Mills  Hotel  in  Bleecker  Street.  He  had 
stabbed  himself  accidentally  in  the  knee  and  also 
in  the  left  hand  in  the  fury  of  his  attack,  and  when 

388 


A  Case  of  Circumstantial  Evidence 

he  arose  in  the  morning  the  sheets  were  covered 
with  blood.  There  was  also  blood  on  his  shoes, 
which  had  been  new,  but  he  took  his  knife  and 
scraped  it  off.  He  had  experienced  a  strange  sort 
of  terrified  exaltation  the  night  before,  and  in  the 
early  light  as  he  crept  downstairs  and  out  of  the 
hotel  he  could  not  have  told  whether  he  were  more 
glad  or  afraid.  For  he  had  three  hundred  dollars 
in  his  pocket,  more  than  he  had  ever  seen  at  any 
one  time  before — as  much  as  a  man  could  save  in 
two  whole  years.  He  would  be  a  king  now  for  a 
long  time.  He  need  not  work.  He  could  eat, 
drink  and  play  cards  and  read  some  books  he  had 
heard  about.  As  for  finding  him  out — never!  The 
police  would  not  even  know  who  Torsielli  was,  to 
say  nothing  of  who  had  killed  him,  for  he  had 
removed,  as  he  thought,  everything  in  Toni's 
pockets.  There  would  be  a  dead  man  in  the 
morgue,  that  was  all.  He  could  go  back  to 
Lambertville  and  say  that  he  had  left  Toni  with 
his  brother,  at  Yonkers,  and  that  would  be  the 
end  of  it.  First,  though,  he  would  buy  some  new 
clothes. 

It  was  very  early  and  the  shops  were  hardly  open, 
but  he  found  one  place  where  he  could  buy  a  suit, 
another  some  underclothes,  and  a  third  a  pair  of 
shoes.  The  shoemaker,  who  was  a  thrifty  man, 
•°sked  Strollo  what  was  the  matter  with  the  shoes 

389 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

he  had  on,  so  Strollo  craftily  said  they  hurt  his  feet. 
Then  he  ate  a  hearty  breakfast,  and  bought  a  bet- 
ter cigar  than  he  had  ever  smoked  before.  There 
was  a  bookstore  near  by  and  he  purchased  some 
books — "Alto  Amore"  and  "Sua  Maesta  e  Sua 
Moneta"  ("The  Height  of  Love"  and  "His  Maj- 
esty and  His  Money").  He  would  read  them  on 
the  train.  He  felt  warm  and  comfortable  now  and 
not  afraid  at  all.  By  and  by  he  went  back  on  the 
train  to  Lambertville  and  smoked  and  read  all  the 
way,  contented  as  the  tiger  is  contented  which  has 
tracked  down  and  slain  a  water-buffalo. 

The  same  afternoon  about  sunset,  in  a  lonely 
part  of  Van  Cortlandt  Park,  the  mushroom  digger 
stumbled  over  Torsielli's  body  lying  face  down- 
ward among  the  leaves.  He  recognized  it  as  that 
of  the  man  who  had  asked  the  way  to  something 
to  eat  and  given  him  a  cigar.  He  ran  from  the 
sight  and,  pallid  with  fear,  notified  the  near- 
est police  officer.  Then  things  took  the  usual 
course.  The  body  was  removed  to  the  morgue,  an 
autopsy  was  performed,  and  "Headquarters"  took 
charge  of  the  case.  As  the  deceased  was  an  Italian, 
Detective  Sergeant  Petrosini  was  called  in.  Tor- 
sielli's  pockets  were  empty  save  for  the  band  of  a 
"Cremo"  cigar  in  one  waistcoat  pocket  and  a  tiny 
slip  of  paper  in  another,  on  which  was  penciled 
"Sabbatto  Gizzi,P.O.  Box  239,  Lambertville, New 

390 


A  Case  of  Circumstantial  Evidence 

Jersey."  Whether  this  last  was  the  name  of  the 
deceased,  the  murderer,  or  some  one  else,  no  one 
knew.  Headquarters  said  it  was  a  blind  case,  but 
Petrosini  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  bought  a 
ticket  to  Lambertville. 

Here  he  found  Sabbatto  Gizzi,  who  expressed 
genuine  horror  at  learning  of  Toni's  death  and 
readily  accompanied  Petrosini  to  New  York,  where 
he  identified  the  body  as  indeed  that  of  Torsielli. 
He  told  Petrosini  that  Toni  had  left  Lambertville 
in  the  company  of  Strollo  on  Thursday,  August 
1 6th.  This  was  Saturday,  August  i8th,  and  less 
than  thirty-six  hours  after  the  murder.  Strollo, 
reading  "Alto  Amore,"  and  drinking  in  the  saloon, 
suspected  nothing.  New  York  was  seventy  miles 
away — too  far  for  any  harm  to  come.  But  Monday 
morning,  walking  lazily  down  the  street  near  the 
railroad  station,  Strollo  found  himself  suddenly 
confronted  by  a  heavily-built  man  with  a  round, 
moon-shaped  face  thickly  covered  with  pockmarks. 
Strollo  did  not  like  the  way  the  latter's  gimlet-like 
eyes  looked  him  over.  There  was  no  time  to  turn 
and  fly,  and,  besides,  Strollo  had  no  fear.  They 
might  come  and  ask  him  questions,  and  he  migh.t 
even  admit  almost  all — almost  all,  and  they  could 
do  nothing,  for  no  one  had  seen  what  he  had  done 
to  Toni  in  the  wood.  So  Strollo  returned  Petro- 
sini's  gaze  unflinchingly. 

391 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

"Are  you  Antonio  Strollo?"  asked  the  detec- 
tive, coming  close  to  the  murderer. 

"Yes,  certainly,  I  am  Antonio  Strollo/'  replied 
the  latter. 

"Do  you  know  Antonio  Torsielli?"  continued 
Petrosini. 

"To  be  sure,"  answered  Strollo.  "I  knew  him 
well/'  he  added  almost  insolently. 

"Why  did  you  accompany  him  to  New  York  ?" 
inquired  Petrosini  sharply.  Strollo  paled.  He  had 
not  known  that  the  police  were  aware  of  the  fact. 

"I  had  errands  in  the  city.  I  needed  clothes/' 
said  Strollo. 

"He  has  been  murdered/'  said  Petrosini  qui- 
etly. "  Will  you  come  to  New  York  to  identify  the 
body?" 

Strollo  hesitated. 

"Why — yes — certainly.  I  will  go  to  New 
York."  Then  he  added,  thinking  that  his  words 
seemed  insufficient,  "I  am  sorry  if  Torsielli  has 
been  murdered,  for  he  was  a  friend  of  mine." 

There  was  a  wait  of  several  hours  before  the 
train  started  for  New  York  and  Strollo  utilized  it 
by  giving  Petrosini  a  detailed  account  of  his  trip 
with  Torsielli.  He  took  his  time  about  it  and 
thought  each  statement  over  very  carefully  before 
he  made  it,  for  he  was  a  clever  fellow,  this  Strollo. 
He  even  went  into  the  family  history  of  Torsielli 

392 


A  Case  of  Circumstantial  Evidence 

and  explained  about  the  correspondence  with  the 
long-lost  brother,  in  which  he  acted  as  amanuensis, 
for  he  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  in  the  long 
run  honesty  (up  to  a  certain  point)  would  prove 
the  best  policy.  Thus  he  told  the  detective  many 
things  which  the  latter  did  not  know  or  even  sus- 
pect. Strollo's  account  of  what  had  happened 
was  briefly  as  follows: 

He  and  Toni  had  reached  New  York  about 
twelve  o'clock  and  had  spent  an  hour  or  so  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Mott  Street  looking  at  the  parade 
of  "San  Rocco."  Then  they  had  started  for  Yon- 
kers  and  gone  as  far  as  the  terminal  of  the  Second 
Avenue  El.  It  was  about  five  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon. They  had  got  out  and  started  to  walk. 
As  they  proceeded  they  suddenly  had  seen  a  man 
standing  under  a  tree  and  Torsielli  had  said  to 
Strollo: 

"That  man  standing  under  that  tree  looks  like 
my  brother." 

Strollo  had  replied: 

"You  know  I  am  not  acquainted  with  your 
brother." 

As  they  reached  the  tree  the  stranger  had  stepped 
forward  and  said  to  Torsielli : 

"Who  are  you?" 

"Who  ?  Me  ?  My  name  is  Antonio  Torsielli," 
had  been  the  reply.  "Who  are  you  ?" 

393 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

"I  am  Vito  Torsielli,"  had  answered  the  stran- 
ger. Then  the  two  had  rushed  into  each  other's 
arms. 

"And  what  did  you  do  ?"  inquired  Petrosini,  as 
Strollo  naively  concluded  this  extraordinary  story. 

"Me?"  answered  Strollo  innocently.  "Why, 
there  was  nothing  for  me  to  do,  so  I  went  back  to 
New  York." 

Petrosini  said  nothing,  but  bided  his  time.  He 
had  now  several  important  bits  of  evidence.  By 
Strollo's  own  account  he  had  been  with  the  de- 
ceased in  the  general  locality  of  the  murder  shortly 
before  it  occurred;  he  had  given  no  adequate  ex- 
planation of  why  he  was  in  New  York  at  all;  and 
he  was  now  fabricating  a  preposterous  falsehood 
to  show  that  he  had  left  his  victim  before  the  homi- 
cide was  committed.  On  the  train  Petrosini  began 
to  tie  up  some  of  the  loose  ends.  He  noticed  the 
wound  on  Strollo's  hand  and  asked  where  it  had 
been  obtained.  The  suspect  replied  that  he  had 
received  it  at  the  hands  of  a  drunken  man  in  Mott 
Street.  He  even  admitted  having  stayed  at  the 
Mills  Hotel  the  same  evening  under  an  assumed 
name,  and  gave  as  an  excuse  that  his  own  name 
was  difficult  for  an  American  to  pronounce  and 
write.  Later,  this  information  led  to  the  finding 
of  the  bloody  bedclothes.  He  denied,  however, 
having  changed  his  clothes  or  purchased  new  ones, 

394 


A  Case  of  Circumstantial  Evidence 

and  this  the  detective  was  obliged  to  ferret  out  for 
himself,  which  he  did  by  visiting  or  causing  to  be 
visited  almost  every  Italian  shop  upon  the  East 
Side.  Thus  the  incident  of  the  shoes  was  brought 
to  light. 

Strollo  was  at  once  taken  to  the  morgue  on 
reaching  the  city,  and  here  for  the  first  time  his 
nerve  failed  him,  for  he  could  not  bring  himself  to 
inspect  the  ghastly  body  of  his  victim. 

"Look,"  cried  Petrosini;   "is  that  the  man  ?" 

"Yes,  yes,"  answered  the  murderer,  trembling 
like  a  leaf.  "That  is  he." 

"You  are  not  looking  at  him,"  said  the  detect- 
ive. "Why  don't  you  look  at  him.  Look  at  the 
body." 

"  I  am  looking  at  him,"  replied  Strollo,  averting 
his  eyes.  "That  is  he — my  friend — Antonio  Tor- 
sielli." 

The  prisoner  was  now  taken  to  Police  Head- 
quarters and  searched.  Here  a  letter  was  found  in 
his  hip  pocket  in  his  own  handwriting  purporting 
to  be  from  Antonio  Torsielli  to  his  brother  Vito  at 
Yonkers,  but  enclosed  in  an  envelope  addressed  to 
Antonio  at  Lambertville. 

This  envelope  bore  a  red  two-cent  stamp  and 
was  inscribed: 

ANTONIO  TORSIELLI,  Box  470, 

Lambertville,  New  Jersey. 
395 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

The  letter  as  later  translated  in  court  by  the  in- 
terpreter read  as  follows: 

LAMBERTVILLE,  July  30,  1905. 
My  dear  Brother: 

Upon  receipt  of  your  news  I  feel  very  happy  to  feel  you 
are  well,  and  the  same  I  can  assure  you  from  me.  Dear 
Brother,  you  cannot  believe  the  joy  I  feel  after  such  a 
long  time  to  know  where  you  are.  I  have  been  looking 
for  you  for  two  years,  and  never  had  any  news  from  you. 
I  could  not,  as  you  wrote  to  me  to,  come  to  you,  because 
I  had  no  money,  and  then  I  didn't  know  where  to  go  be- 
cause I  have  been  always  in  the  country.  Know  that 
what  little  money  I  have  I  sent  it  to  mother,  because  if  I 
don't  help  her  nobody  will,  as  you  never  write  to  her. 
I  believe  not  to  abandon  her,  because  she  is  our  mother, 
and  we  don't  want  her  cursed.  So  then,  if  you  like  to  see 
me,  you  come  and  take  me.  You  spoke  to  me  about  work 
thither,  but  I  don't  understand  about  that  work  which 
you  say,  and  then  what  will  I  do  because  here  I  have 
work,  therefore,  if  you  think  I  can  come  and  work  with 
you  let  me  know  because  I  have  the  address.  But  if  you 
want  to  do  better  you  come  and  take  me.  Dear  Brother, 
I  remind  you  about  our  mother,  because  I  don't  earn 
enough  money,  which  she  is  your  mother  also.  DEAR 
BROTHER,  I  hope  you  did  not  forget  our  mother.  Dear 
Brother,  let  me  know  the  names  of  your  children,  and  I 
kiss  them.  Many  regards  to  your  wife  and  Aunt.  I  beg 
you  to  write  to  me.  Dear  regards,  your  brother,  Antonio 
Torsielli.  When  you  answer  send  the  answer  to  the  ad- 
dress below,  Antonio  Strollo. 

Strollo  made  no  attempt  to  explain  the  posses- 
sion of  this  letter,  which,  if  sent  at  all  would  natu- 

396 


A  Case  of  Circumstantial  Evidence 

rally  have  come  into  the  possession  of  the  ad- 
dressee. 

"And  what  was  Vito's  address  at  Yonkers?" 
inquired  Petrosini. 

"  1570  Yonkers,"  answered  Strollo. 

"  Is  that  the  street  number  of  a  house  or  a  post- 
office  number?"  asked  the  detective. 

"Neither,"  said  Strollo.    "Just  1570  Yonkers." 

Thus  the  infamy  of  this  villain  was  made  mani- 
fest. He  had  invented  out  of  his  own  brain  the 
existence  of  Vito  Torsielli  in  Yonkers,  and  had 
himself  written  the  letters  to  Antonio  which  pur- 
ported to  come  from  him.  He  had  used  the  simple 
fellow's  love  for  his  long-lost  brother  as  the  means 
to  lure  him  to  his  destruction,  and  brutally  mur- 
dered him  for  the  sake  of  the  few  dollars  which  his 
innocent  victim  had  worked  so  hard  to  earn  to 
reunite  him  to  his  mother  and  his  betrothed. 

The  wounds  in  Strollo's  hand  and  knee  were 
found  to  correspond  in  shape  and  character  with 
the  thirty-six  wounds  in  Torsielli's  body,  and  the 
mushroom  digger  unhesitatingly  identified  him  as 
the  man  in  the  company  of  the  deceased  upon  the 
afternoon  of  the  murder. 

It  almost  seemed  like  the  finger  of  Providence 
indicating  the  assassin  when  the  last  necessary 
piece  of  evidence  in  this  extraordinary  case  was 
discovered.  Petrosini  had  hurried  to  Lambert- 

397 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

ville  immediately  upon  the  discovery  of  the  letter 
and  visited  the  post-office. 

A  young  lady  named  Miss  Olive  Phillips  had 
been  employed  there  as  a  clerk  for  twelve  years, 
and  had  lately  had  charge  of  what  are  known  as 
the  "call  boxes" — that  is  to  say,  of  boxes  to  which 
no  keys  are  issued,  but  for  the  contents  of  which 
the  lessees  have  to  ask  at  the  delivery  window. 
These  are  very  inexpensive  and  in  use  generally 
by  the  Italian  population  of  Lambertville,  who 
are  accustomed  to  rent  them  in  common — one  box 
to  three  or  four  families.  She  had  noticed  Strollo 
when  he  had  come  for  his  mail  on  account  of  his 
flashy  dress  and  debonair  demeanor.  Strollo's 
box,  she  said,  was  No.  420.  Petrosini  showed  her 
the  envelope  of  the  letter  found  in  Strollo's  pocket. 
The  stamp  indicated  that  it  had  been  cancelled  at 
Lambertville  on  July  26.  When  she  saw  the  en- 
velope she  called  Petrosini's  attention  to  the  fact 
that  the  stamp  was  a  two-cent  red  stamp,  and  said, 
to  his  surprise,  that  she  was  able  to  identify  the  let- 
ter on  that  account  as  one  mailed  by  Strollo  on  July 
26.  As  there  is  no  local  delivery  in  the  town,  she 
explained,  "drop  letters,"  or  letters  mailed  by 
residents  to  other  residents,  may  be  franked  for 
one  cent.  Now,  in  the  first  place,  no  Italian  in 
Lambertville,  except  Strollo,  so  far  as  Miss  Phillips 
could  remember,  had  ever  mailed  a  letter  to  an- 

398 


A  Case  of  Circumstantial  Evidence 

other  Italian  in  the  same  town.  A  frugal  Italian, 
moreover,  if  he  had  done  so,  would  have  put  on 
only  the  required  amount  of  postage.  On  the 
26th  of  July,  Strollo  had  come  to  the  post-office 
and  pushed  this  identical  letter  through  the  win- 
dow, at  the  same  time  handing  her  two  cents  and 
asking  her  to  put  on  a  red  stamp  for  him.  She 
had  been  surprised  at  this,  and  had  at  first  thought 
of  calling  his  attention  to  the  fact  that  only  a  one- 
cent  stamp  was  necessary,  but  she  had  refrained 
and  put  on  the  stamp.  At  the  same  time  she  had 
noticed  that  it  was  addressed  to  "Antonio  Tor- 
sielli,  Lambertville,  New  Jersey."  Stroilo  had  then 
taken  the  letter  and  slipped  it  into  the  "drop" 
and  she  had  cancelled  the  stamp,  taking  the  oppor- 
tunity to  examine  the  letter  a  second  time.  A 
stranger  coincidence  could  hardly  be  imagined, 
and  this  observing  young  lady  from  the  country 
was  thus  able  to  supply  the  most  important  link  in 
the  chain  against  the  murderer,  and  to  demon- 
strate conclusively  that  the  wretch  had  himself 
been  mailing  in  Lambertville  the  letters  purporting 
to  come  from  the  fictitious  brother  in  Yonkers. 

Strollo  was  now  placed  in  the  House  of  Deten- 
tion as  a  "witness,"  a  course  frequently  pursued 
when  it  is  desirable  to  prevent  a  suspect  from 
knowing  that  he  is  accused. 

The  case  against  him  was  practically  com- 
399 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

plete,  for  it  did  not  seem  humanly  possible,  that 
any  jury  would  hesitate  to  convict  him  upon  the 
evidence,  but  juries  are  loath  to  find  any  one  guilty 
of  murder  in  the  first  degree  upon  purely  circum- 
stantial evidence,  and  this  was  the  first  purely  cir- 
cumstantial case  in  a  long  time.  Inspector  Price, 
therefore,  conceived  the  idea  of  trapping  Strollo 
into  a  confession  by  placing  a  detective  in  con- 
finement with  him  under  the  guise  of  being  a  fel- 
low-prisoner. It  was,  of  course,  patent  that  Strollo 
was  but  a  child  mentally,  but  he  was  shrewd  and 
sly,  and  if  he  denied  his  guilt,  there  was  still  a 
chance  of  his  escape.  Accordingly,  a  detective 
named  Repetto  was  assigned  to  the  disagreeable 
task  of  taking  the  part  of  an  accused  criminal. 
He  was  detailed  to  the  House  of  Detention  and 
remained  there  for  five  days,  from  September  8  to 
September  13.  Here  Repetto  became  acquainted 
with  Strollo  and  the  other  prisoners,  giving  his  name 
as  Silvio  del  Sordo  and  his  address  as  272  Bowery. 
He  played  cards  with  them,  read  the  papers  aloud 
and  made  himself  generally  agreeable.  During 
this  period  he  frequently  saw  the  defendant  write 
and  familiarized  himself  with  his  chirography. 

The  scheme  worked  and  Repetto  afterward  re- 
ceived five  letters  from  Strollo,  sent  after  the  latter 
had  been  removed  from  the  House  of  Detention  to 
the  Tombs  and  indicted  for  the  murder  of  Tor- 

400 


A  Case  of  Circumstantial  Evidence 

sielli.  The  first,  dated  September  22d,  was  merely 
to  inform  his  supposed  friend  Silvio  of  the  change 
in  his  residence  and  to  inquire  the  whereabouts  of 
another  prisoner  named  Philip.  The  second  would 
be  pathetic  were  it  not  written  by  the  defendant  in 
the  case.  It  carries  with  it  the  flavor  of  the  Cala- 
brian  hills. 

NEW  YORK,  October  17,  1905. 
SIR  SILVIO: 

I  write  and  believe  not  to  sicken  you  with  my  words, 
but  it  is  enough  that  you  are  well  in  health.  I  take  the 
liberty  again  not  having  any  one  else  but  you,  and  I  be- 
lieve to  find  a  brother  in  you,  not  a  friend.  I  ask  you 
nothing,  only  if  you  have  time  to  come  and  see  me  as 
soon  as  possible.  I  ask  you  this  as  a  favor  because  I 
know  and  believe  to  find  a  true  friend,  as  I  want  to  ask 
you  a  certain  thing  at  the  cost  of  my  life.  I  will  not  say 
any  more.  Bring  me  five  cents  of  paper  and  envelopes 
to  write  letters  and  when  you  come  I  will  give  you  the 
money.  Nothing  else.  I  am  yours  ever.  Servant  and 

Perfect  friend, 

A  STROLLO. 

The  third  letter  from  the  perfect  friend  to  his 
equally  perfect  friend  is  an  extraordinary  com- 
bination of  ingenuity  and  ignorance.  It  contains 
the  only  suggestion  of  a  defence — that  of  an  alibi. 

NEW  YORK,  October  30,  1905. 
ESTEEMED  FRIEND: 

With  retard  I  answer  in  receiving  yours.  I  was  very, 
very  glad.  I  believe  all  you  told  me  and  I  am  grateful, 

401 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

and  hope  you  will  not  betray  me,  because  you  know  it 
will  cost  the  life  of  a  poor  unfortunate,  so  do  as  you  told 
me,  keep  things  to  ourselves,  if  you  wish  to  help  me  you 
will  do  me  a  great  service,  and  if  God  helps  me,  you  can 
dispose  of  my  life. 

So  I  will  have  you  called  unexpected,  saying  that  I  did 
not  know  if  you  remembered.  So  if  you  are  called  the 
first  thing  you  must  do  is  to  make  believe  to  look  at  me, 
and  then  you  say  you  remember  of  having  seen  me  look- 
ing at  the  pictures  in  front  of  place  where  you  work,  and 
you  asked  me  if  I  wanted  my  pictures  taken  and  I  said 
no.  If  they  ask  at  what  time  say  5:20  or  5:30  p.  M.,  and 
that  you  spoke  with  me  for  quite  awhile.  If  they  ask  how 
was  he  dressed  ?  The  coat  was  black,  the  shoes  russet  the 
Trousers  with  white  stripes  which  is  the  one  I  am  now 
wearing;  what  tie,  I  don't  remember,  I  only  know  he  was 
well  dressed,  the  hat  was  brown,  if  they  ask  did  he  have 
a  mark  on  his  hand  ?  'Say  no,  he  had  a  ring  with  a  black 
stone,  how  many  times  did  you  see  him,  say  that  after 
your  work  you  were  going  around  Mott  Street  and  you 
saw  me  again  and  how  it  was  eight  o'clock  or  past  eight 
and  you  saw  me  with  a  handkerchief  around  my  hand, 
and  you  said  to  me,  why  I  had  my  hand  so.  And  he  an- 
swered that  some  one  struck  him,  I  asked  if  it  hurt  much, 
he  said  he  did  not  feel  it,  did  both  of  you  go  to  drink. 
No.  Where  else  did  Strollo  go,  Strollo  said  he  was  going 
at  the  Bleecker  Street  Hotel  to  sleep,  did  you  see  him 
again.  No.  Nothing  else,  if  you  want  to  help  me  reflect 
well,  but  you  don't  need  any  more  words  from  me  say  just 
what  I  have  said  and  I  hope,  with  faith  of  a  brother  not  a 
friend,  I  am  ever  your  Friend, 

A.  STROLLO. 

It  may,  and  probably  will,  appear  to  the  reader 
that  a  clearer  case  of  guilt  could  hardly  be  estab- 

402 


A  Case  of  Circumstantial  Evidence 

lished,  but  the  action  of  juries  is  always  problem- 
atical, and  this  was  a  case  composed  entirely  of 
circumstantial  evidence.  The  jury  would  be 
obliged  to  find  that  no  reasonable  hypothesis  con- 
sistent with  the  innocence  of  the  accused  could  be 
formulated  upon  the  evidence.  Thus,  even  in  the 
face  of  the  facts  proven  against  him,  some  "  freak  " 
juryman  might  still  have  said,  "  But,  after  all,  how 
do  you  know  that  Strollo  killed  him  ?  Some  other 
fellow  might  have  done  it."  Even  the  "faking" 
of  a  defence  does  not  prove  the  defendant  guilty, 
but  merely  that  he  fears  conviction,  and  is  ready  to 
resort  to  feigned  testimony  to  secure  his  freedom. 
Many  innocent  men  convict  themselves  in  precisely 
this  way. 

Accordingly  it  was  by  no  means  with  confidence 
that  the  People  went  to  trial,  but  throughout  this 
remarkable  case  it  seemed  as  if  it  must  have  been 
preordained  that  Strollo  should  not  escape  pun- 
ishment for  his  treacherous  crime.  No  defence 
was  possible,  not  even  the  partially  prepared  alibi 
was  attempted,  and  the  only  thing  that  savored  of 
a  defence  was  the  introduction  of  a  letter  alleged 
to  have  been  received  by  the  defendant  while  in  the 
House  of  Detention,  and  which,  if  genuine,  would 
have  apparently  established  that  the  crime  had 
been  perpetrated  by  the  "  Black  Hand." 

The  offering  of  this  letter  was  a  curious  and 
403 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

fatal  blunder,  for  it  was  later  proven  by  the  People 
to  be  in  Strollo' s  own  handwriting.  It  was  his  last 
despairing  effort  to  escape  the  consequences  of  his 
crime.  Headed  with  a  cross  drawn  in  blood  it 
ran  as  follows: 

I  swear  upon  this  cross,  which  is  the  blood  of  my 
veins,  Strollo  is  innocent.  I  swear  upon  the  cross  the  re- 
vengeful Black  Hand  could  save  me.  New  York,  Oct. 
12,  1905.  Sir  Strollo,  knowing  you  only  by  name,  eight 
days  after  that  I  leave  this  letter  will  be  sent  to  you.  I 
leave  at  seven  o'clock  with  the  Steamer  Britain  the  Har- 
bor. Therefore  I  leave  betraying  my  oath  that  I  have 
held  for  the  last  three  years  belonging  to  the  Black  Hand. 
I  will  leave  three  letters,  one  to  you,  one  to  the  Police  Offi- 
cer Capri,  and  the  other  to  the  law,  300  Mulberry  Street. 
All  what  I  am  saying  I  have  sworn  to  before  God.  There- 
fore your  innocence  will  be  given  you,  first  by  God  and 
then  by  the  law,  capturing  the  true  murders.  I  am  sure 
that  they  already  captured  the  murderer  of  Torsielli. 
Who  lured  you  to  come  to  New  York  was  Giusepp^Rosa, 
who  knew  you  for  nearly  two  years,  and  who  comes  from 
Lambertville,  came  among  us  and  played  you  a  trick. 
He  is  a  Calabrise  and  has  a  mighty  grudge.  He  and  four 
others  are  averse  to  them.  Announce  the  name  of  the 
man  who  stabbed  you  with  the  knife  was  Antonio  Villa. 
He  had  to  kill  you,  but  you  was  fortunate.  He  is  in  jail 
for  the  present  time  and  I  don't  know  for  how  long,  but 
I  know  that  he  was  arrested.  Nothing  else  to  say.  I 
have  done  my  duty  in  giving  you  all  the  information. 
407  and  St.,  Jersey. 

It  is  clear  from  the  letter  that  Strollo  had  formed 
a  vague  plan  for  his  defence,  which  should,  in  part. 

404 


A  Case  of  Circumstantial  Evidence 

consist  of  the  claim  that  he,  as  well  as  Torsielli, 
had  been  marked  for  death  by  the  Black  Hand, 
and  that  while  both  had  been  induced  to  come  to 
New  York,  the  plans  of  the  assassins  had  in  his 
case  miscarried. 

The  reader  has  already  observed  that  purely  for 
the  purpose  of  securing  his  continued  interest  in 
the  present  narrative  the  writer  has,  as  it  were, 
told  his  story  backward,  reserving  as  long  as  pos- 
sible the  fact  that  the  finding  of  the  beloved  Vito 
was  a  pure  fiction  invented  by  the  murderer.  At 
the  trial,  however,  the  jury  listened  breathlessly 
while  bit  by  bit  the  whole  pathetic  story  was 
painted  before  them,  like  a  mosaic  picture.  They 
heard  first  the  story  of  the  mushroom  digger,  then 
of  the  expedition  of  Petrosini  to  Lambertville,  of 
the  identification  of  Torsielli's  body,  of  the  elabo- 
rate fabrications  of  Strollo,  and  in  due  course,  of 
the  tell-tale  letter  in  the  murderer's  pocket.  Grad- 
ually the  true  character  of  the  defendant's  crime 
came  over  them  and  they  turned  from  him  in 
aversion.  The  natural  climax  in  the  evidence  was 
Miss  Phillip's  extraordinary  identification  of  the 
defendant  sitting  at  the  bar  as  the  man  who  had 
mailed  upon  the  26th  of  July,  at  the  Lambertville 
post-office,  the  envelope  purporting  to  come  from 
Yonkers  and  containing  the  forged  letter  from  the 
imaginary  Vito. 

405 


True  Stories  of  Crime 

Strollo  remained  almost  to  the  last  confident 
that  he  could  never  be  convicted,  but  when  his 
own  letters  in  prison  were  introduced  in  evidence 
he  turned  ashen  pale  and  stared  fixedly  at  the 
judge.  The  jury  deliberated  but  fifteen  minutes, 
their  functions  consisting  of  but  a  single  ballot, 
followed  by  a  prayer  for  the  wretched  murderer's 
soul.  Then  they  filed  slowly  back  and,  in  the 
waning  light  of  the  summer  afternoon  just  one 
year  after  the  murder,  and  at  the  precise  hour  at 
which  Strollo  had  killed  his  victim,  pronounced 
him  guilty  of  murder  in  the  first  degree.  In  due 
course  his  conviction  was  sustained  by  the  Court 
of  Appeals,  and  on  March  nth,  1908,  he  paid  the 
penalty  for  his  crime  in  the  electric  chair. 


406 


DATE 


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